PMD: Legend of Archaea: Persistence of Memory
by Vein Locke
Summary: In a world such as this, there are only two types of pokemon. There are cowards who will follow blindly the one who proclaims himself leader, or the leader himself who places himself above his fellow pokemon for greed, or fame, or glory. Regardless, I hate them both. Perhaps there is a third, much rare kind of pokemon. They are the madmen, I will show you who they are. -Venomitus
1. Chapter 1: Dual of the Madmen

**July 11, 2032**

It's an interesting predicament, love is. Really, if you think about it, love is like a duel between combatants. Especially in the case of two or more sparring partners who have experienced nearly every combination of their opponents' moves, and through persistence they might surprise each other with something new here and there. Of course there are madmen who, through some internal conflict, fight with themselves. However, this elicits only the appropriate reaction of disgust or occasional laughter.

They, and by comparable nature, those who love only themselves can drink poison for all I care. The world has no room for self absorbed _imbeciles_ who don't see that they, in fact, aren't above their fellow pokemon. Love is, to put it generously simple, a tool. Not as a weapon is a tool that can be used for good or evil, but rather a tool to be used as a gift that benefits not only you, but the creatures around you.

So as sparring partners must know one another, so do two or more pokemon who wish to have a healthy relationship. Of course I don't just mean romantically, but in friendships as well. Currently, this is the predicament I find myself in; I follow desperately after one of the aforementioned 'madman'. Yet, I suppose that makes me a different kind of madman for trying to see something descent in a good for nothing imbecile.

The imbecile in question is a claydol who was once known by his given name, Sepullen, but through his acquired arrogance introduces himself as the 'Relic Master', or 'Master Sepullen' by his followers. Sure, I'm not downgrading his ability to control the magic elements found in artifacts, but he wouldn't have gotten any of those artifacts if I hadn't, say, found all of them.

Though it's true that I would like a little bit of recognition, all I really want is for Sepullen to act like he used to. As hard as it might be to believe, he and I were once the best of friends. However, it's been around fifteen or sixteen years since he's acknowledged me as anything other than, well, a sparring partner.

Even now, as we strike at each other in perfect rhythm, I know he isn't seeing me. Likely, he's visualizing an enemy, or maybe even himself. I recognize him for who is, or maybe as I remember he was at one point. Nonetheless, if love _is_ a duel then he is my opponent in both the literal and metaphorical sense.

Though in this particular match, I find myself in a bind. In fifteen minutes my claws have only struck his blades forty-seven times. With Sepullen's quick fighting style, all I can do is evade constantly and block from time to time. _If only I could hit him at least once…_

"Terminate, Venomitus!" he says abruptly.

I stop in mid swing of my claws and grimace when I realize his right blade was already raised to block. His eyes glow a brash orange as he forces my hand down, lowering his appendage with it. With a brief glance at me, he floats backward toward the opposite side of the room. I ignore the pin-needle pain as his static voice reverberates in my head.

"I could care less about how nimble you are if you don't use the mind you were given. As a sableye, that is your one utility. Everyone else here has nothing less then maximum performance. It's only you I find that is… lacking."

The corner of my mouth curls into a nearly unnoticeable smirk. "Oh Sepullen, you give me too little credit. Though… I'm not the least bit surprised. After all, you do rely too heavily on others to accomplish your _goals._ If I was a fool I might say you don't have any skills of your own."

"So, that's what you think," he says. "All this time, I've been wondering what's been holding you back only to find it's because you don't share my goals."

"Don't act like you don't know why that is."

"Of course, of course. Your _morals_ won't let you," he spits. "Do you know what self-restraints like that can do to you?"

Off to the side of the room, an elegant stone door opens up with a loud crash. With rhythmic footsteps, a bisharp marches into the room. He stops in front of Sepullen and bows, his red scarf hanging down as he does so.

"Master Sepullen, another relic has been found," he says solemnly. I almost spit acid at the amount of misplaced devotion in his voice.

"Then we will depart immediately. Come, Venomitus. You don't have any choice on this one."

 _Oh I'll come, but just to make sure you don't kill again._

 **Hello, after a couple months thinking it over, I decided to restart this story. It just had to many plot holes and wasn't the best quality. I can't promise this version will be much better, but I hope at least fix a few issues here and there. Other then that, I accept OC's that are relevant to the story. EonTheZoarark's Roselyn will be staying, as well as all of RodiumTech's characters.**

 **I'm not going to make this to long so, on a final note, leave constructive criticism of what I can improve. Also, I don't own pokemon, though I wish I did.**

 _-Vein Locke_


	2. Chapter 2: Between Friends and Foes

_July 13, 2032_

 _It's been four days since I left Stratos for Archaea and I'm nearly dehydrated. The kind Captain Dumpster, as his crew calls him, was nice enough to let me board his ship. Though with his crew made up of only poison types, I had to bring my own water._

 _It'll be worth it once I see Jude and Cryptia again. I've been in such a mess since they went missing looking for the myth of the 'Agents of Spirits'. But maybe Jude just got them lost, or they got trapped in a dungeon somewhere. I just hope nothings happened to them. That's all I can do. Hope._

 _Other then that, I think the dehydration might be getting to me. I've been seeing Lorem more often since I started travelling. What's with that? I couldn't have become that loopy already, could I? I can't take another day on this toxic ship. Hopefully we arrive soon._

 _Sincerely-_

"Aww, that's no fun. Writing about me like I'm not here? Your mother would be ashamed," a hateful voice comes from beside me. I almost beat my heart out of my chest for a moment when all I see is a pair of hollow glowing eyes and a lopsided smile. I swallow, then silently scold myself for falling for his stupid trick. It's always the same trick, too. He'd appear beside me, wait till I wasn't paying attention, then he'd say something outta nowhere that'd make me lose my train of thought.

I doubt he's real either. Just I stupid _creature_ that I conjured up at some point or another out of boredom. Even if he's not real, he's still bothersome and he never goes away. The bother's name, of course, is Lorem. I'd named him that after a phrase that my mother, who he claims to know, used to say.

 _Lorem Ipsum Docet_. She claimed it meant 'pain teaches', but like me she'd never been good at learning other languages, so I doubt that she knows what she's talking about. She never knew much of anything else either. Only how to tell me stupid nursery rhymes and pretend to be a superhero. Actually, I have to wonder if she was even pretending.

"Of course I'm writing about you like you're not here, 'cause you're not. And I don't care what my mother thinks."

If his face wasn't always stuck with the same expression, I bet he would try to give me an exaggerated look of confusion. Instead, he tilts his head and asks, "Well, then what about your father?"

 _Ha! Father._ "You see 'em, let 'em know that I put flowers on his gravestone every year right around winter time."

"What is he, then? Dead?" Lorem asks.

"Dead to me. Only saw 'em once, and don't even remember his face. He only came home once and that was just to pick up some flowers. Mother said he liked bluebells, so I made him a gravestone and started leaving amaryllis instead."

For a moment he doesn't say anything, so I pick my pen and finish writing my signature. Only being able to hold a pen with one of my vines, it ends up being sloppily a sloppily written _Branna_. I hear Lorem clear his throat and adjust his raincoat.

"...Anyway, why the vacation?"

I sigh. If this were a vacation, then I'd be basking on a beach somewhere, or climbing a mountain with my daughter and Jude. Instead, they and the rest of their team went missing looking for a legend on behalf of Team Ruin. I never should have trusted that team. After all, one of my close friends had told me that the leader in particular is a ruthless killer. Of course, I don't believe rumors easily, but the fact that know one seems to know where he came from is enough reason to distrust him.

"This is no vacation, Lorem. If I can help it, I'll be in and out of the continent within three months with Cryptia's Team. If not, well I'll just have to keep looking."

After a moment of silence, a loud crash of metal nearly pushes the door in. "Miss Branna?" the captain's gruff voice calls through. "Ya woke yet? Do take yer time missy, but these chaps out here be unloadin' soon."

"I'll be out in a moment."

 **Upper Deck**

"Ah, Miss Branna," the captain says. "Good to have ya."

He and the rest of his crew watch me as a shuffle on deck. He gives me a quick glance, before turning to look ahead of the ship.

"See that missy? We be hittin' land shortly."

Coming up in front of us is an inlet that opens up to a small bay. I squint my eyes and see that just past the bay is a sinister looking town shrouded in fog and ice. Ice? This is the south end of the continent near the equator, I can't think of any reason there'd be ice.

"That's the least of your problems. Haven't you noticed? The bay is blocked by an underwater wall of sand. Oh, what fun it'll be seeing the stupid garbodor's pride and joy break into a thousand tiny pieces."

 _Jeez Lorem, you don't have to be so mean to 'em. Hid did let me come on his ship._

"Well, he's taking my precious- I mean he's taking me to a town I don't like, on a continent I don't like, so you can visit some people I don't like."

 _Okay, okay. I get it._

Though I don't like his attitude, he is right about the whole 'thousand tiny pieces' part. The captain is a garbodor, which as a species has a habit of picking random pieces of junk of the ground and attaching it to themselves. Normally, though disgusting, that habit is pretty tame. Though Captain Dumpster's seems to have extended beyond himself and to his ship.

From front to back is piles upon piles of trash, with the ship itself sewn together with nothing but wire, pipes, and shrapnel. Even that captain's wheel is made from an old, rusty, mechanical thing that's definitely not a ships wheel.

"Wait, is that…" Lorem starts.

 _What?_

He chuckles. "It seems the captain's somewhat smarter than I gave him credit for. That wheel is the Antikytherum, an ancient navigational device, but it's supposed to be hard to read."

 _How do you know that?_

"I don't."

"Is that so?" I ask. Before he answers, I stagger forward when the ship comes to hard stop. My face slaps the ground with a _thud_. Disoriented, I look up to see Lorem extending his hand out to me. I reach a vine out to him, but it passes right through his glove. His face cracks into a slight frown, then he vanishes.

"What just…?" I ask.

"Beached, missy. Forgot ta warn ya, this here be a sandbar," he says as he yanks me off the ground. Nearby, a dragalge breaks into an uncontrollable laughter.

"Fall for it, they all do! What a laugh, these inlanders."

The poison-type drags herself across the ground almost drunkenly while spouting more about 'inlanders' and 'cloudriders'. Of course, the whole time she's looking at me like _I'm_ drunk. The captain, however, isn't laughing. He looks between the dragalge and me, barely containing himself.

"Quiet, Sinista," is all he can say.

She rolls her eyes. "You know me well enough, captain. I'm here and there, saying this and that."

"Quiet!" he fumes. "Quiet, 'fore I throw ya over the side ta join Fini and the rest o' her dead."

"Please, Kyogre would have me sooner than that _witch._ "

As soon as the word 'witch' leaves her mouth, every single member of the crew turns to her. Some glare at her, others just stand there with their mouths open. Even Dumpster shudders, but doesn't take his limbs of the wheel. Sinista exhales a sigh of regret and looks out to the sea.

"Apologies, captain," she says.

"'Apologies' says you, 'throw 'em overboard' says I. Might as well, bein' that you spoke of… _her_."

"Who, love? Me, by chance?" a mismagius says as she appears out of thin air.

I flinch when the captain grips the Antikytherum with enough force to crack it half to pieces. Obviously, I can't look at my own face, but I'd imagine my expression to be about as dumb as one of Dumpster's crew. At that thought, I try to put on the most normal face possible.

"Now, who _did_ say my name?" the mismagius asks. "Was is you, dear captain? No, of course not. You would know better."

She narrows her eyes and looks around at all crew members on deck. I swallow when she stops on me. She levitates over to me and leans in uncomfortably close. Then, in a low whisper she says, "Only a newcomer would be naive enough to speak my name. Oh… but you're no newcomer, and we've met before. If you don't remember _Branna_ , my name is Vanish the witch, but you can call me Witch if you please."

Vanish? That can't be her name. After all, a ghost would never give me their real name. I had a friend once who was a ghost. She told me that ghosts only give their real name to the ones they trust. It makes sense, apparently the only way to kill a ghost is by knowing it. Why would she say I know her though?

Vanish turns around abruptly to look at Sinista. "...But I didn't come all the way here for introductions. Sinista, this happens almost every time you enter the bay. I know it was you who spoke my name in the vicinity of the town."

The dragalge cowers under her. "What, silly ol' me? Never in seventy lifetimes."

"We both know you're lying."

"Don't kill me," Sinista squeaks out with wide eyes.

"Kill you, love? I think not. To be honest, that's up to you."

Still terrified the dragalge asks, "How?"

Vanish comes closer to her and breaks into an intimidating smile. "Well, love, you smell of vile intoxicant. How much you've consumed will determine how easily you burn."

When I realize what's happening I move forward to stop her, but then I feel a massive metal hand block my way. I look at the captain in surprise, but try to push past him anyway.

"Stop, Witch! You can't-"

"I can, Branna. It's nothing personal, I'm just protecting my identity. Besides, you would burn even easier then this drunk, so I wouldn't try anything."

Before I can say anything else, Sinista's skin starts smoking as liquid poison starts evaporating from her body. She struggles to hold back tears, all the while Vanish stares down at her in glee. I shut my eyes and coil when the dragalge screams from the smoke turning into a full on flame. However, even her high pitched shrieks are drowned out by the mismagius' mad laughter.

Through it all, I try to bury my head into my skin to drown out the noise. Dumpster only watches with a blank look on his face. He tries to cover me with his hand to drown out the noise, but that only makes Vanish momentarily stop and look at the two of us.

"No, no, no. You're missing the bloody point, love. I'm not torturing this poor soul for no reason. I'm setting an example. Make the serperior watch, or I torch the both of you as well."

The flames abruptly burn out and she freezes in place when a familiar voice comes from behind her. The voice seethes with even more hatred then I'd ever heard from anyone else.

"I'm sorry, I really am. It looked like you were having _fun_ there. But see… there's a teensy little problem. If you ever threaten my- I mean Branna again, you're going to rethink who's making an example of who."

Vanish barely chokes out, "Who are you?"

"Glad you asked. See, we have many names, but you can call us Lorem."

She turns around just in time to see him disappear, then she teleports away without another word.

 **End Of… Ridge, Home of the Dead**

Think of a calm, shallow sea that reflects a perfectly grey sky. Now think of a gentle breeze that brings in the salty scent of the ocean up to the dock. _Now_ , imagine that scent is replaced by the foul stench of rotten meat and battery acid rolled up into a lint ball, then set out to dry in a hot desert sun for three weeks.

This is what the bay is for me; previously a calm, ghost town with almost perfect weather all year round. That is, until Captain Dumpster and his ship- _atrocity_ if you will- decided to sail into the general three-hundred mile radius. Okay, maybe not that much, but they make the place smell _really_ bad.

I can't complain though, I got a nice mansion overlooking the ocean, and a backwoods town that no one would ever think to pass through. What else could a froslass ask for? Of course, one thing I didn't ask for is pulling at my hand, trying to get me to pay attention to it. His name's Revenge, a banette. It's like he can't go anywhere without Vanish's or my approval.

"Frost! Frost! You have to listen to me," he says.

"I don't _have_ to do anything, but I'll indulge you. Three, two, one, you have thirty seconds. Go."

"Well, prepare yourself 'cause there's nothing but bad news."

Bad news? In all honesty, a little bit of bad news might not be so bad. Anything that'll keep me occupied on something other than Dumpster's stupid ship. Right now nothing could be worse than that.

"Well, first of all, Mr. Money of Team Gold checked into a hotel nearby. I don't think he's onto us yet, but he will be if we keep dawdling out in the open."

George Gold Money, also known as Mr. Money. I don't remember much about him after all this time, but I do remember he's smart. That, and he's trying to track as down. It really doesn't matter. You freeze a famous explorer in ice for a couple years, change your identity a few times, then burn down an entire base on your retirement day, it's just what you get.

"Tee-hee, I guess that is bad news."

He frowns. "You don't seem that worried."

"You're absolutely right," I say. "So you said there was nothing but bad news, tell me another one. And forget the thirty seconds thing."

"This one's particularly bad, you sure?"

I look him dead in the eye and grab him by the neck. Of course, he starts panicking and squirming, but they always do that. He even draws his claws and pierces them through my hand. All of this out of sheer terror, and he's supposed to be a ghost-type. I mean _come on_ , the living are afraid of ghosts. Since when were _ghosts_ afraid of ghosts.

"Revenge, once upon a time there was a nice town with nice weather, led by a nice team, living in a nice little house with no one to bother them. Do want to know what happened next?"

"But I already-"

"Do you?!" I repeat.

"Yes, Frost," Revenge whines.

"Well I'll tell you. Our bounty hunter strolled into town, and that damned trader, Dumpster had to come and ruin my perfect day and we all lived happily ever after! So yes, I'm sure. _Don't make me repeat myself_."

Still terrified, he looks at me with uncertainty. "Well, see, along with his… _substances_ , Captain Dumpster brought a passenger with him."

"Who?" I demand, tightening my grip on his neck.

"A serperior from Atmos. Her name is Branna, your old teammate."

I drop Revenge and disappear before he hits the ground. Despite that being worse news then anything prior, I grin knowing that now I have someone to take my anger out on. _Oh captain, you stupid bastard. You can't even imagine what's coming to you._


	3. Chapter 3: In The Wind

**Final Ward Gallows, End Of… Ridge**

Sepullen, the bisharp Rook, and I sit at the edge of a scaffold, looking out at the rest of the town from atop a hill. The claydol watches intently for our target, while I take bitter notice of a noose tangling in the wind behind us. Though I'm a ghost, it reminds me of my odd mortality. Rumor has it that a ghost is only chained to this world by a strong emotion or memory of another pokemon.

Thinking that, it makes me ponder. With their sanity intact, who could ever remember good things of me? Surely not Sepullen, or Rook for that matter. Someone else, someone mad. Whoever it is, I will find them. If they see something in me that others don't, then they be worth pursuing. Though, I will not give up on Sepullen. Not yet.

"Venomitus, attention!"

Swiveling my head around, I'm barely surprised to see the claydol staring me in the face a little too closely. Even when he wasn't the monster he is today, I've always known him as distinctly domineering. I've never agreed with that aspect of his personality, but I suppose that's the reason _he's_ always been our team leader.

"Before we begin our search, there's something you must remember. This town is governed by Vanish the witch. She's cast a veil over the town so that anyone who speaks her name will summon her."

In a formal like manner, Rook straightens his posture and asks, "Permission to speak, Relic Master."

"Granted."

"Why would she cast such a spell?"

Sepullen backs away from me and eyes a massive four-story mansion that lies where the land meets the water. Curiously, from it's chimney spouts fog rather than smoke. The same kind of light fog, in fact, that covers the rest of the town.

"The veil…" I say under my breath.

"Correct," the claydol confirms. "That mansion down there is the dwelling place of Team Fade, the outlaws. The veil was cast so that they can protect their identity. Now, everyone is afraid to say their names for fear of punishment."

I exhale through a faint smile at Sepullen's oversight. He turns sharply back to me and 'demands to know what's so humorous'. So I tell him.

"If you haven't noticed, we're under the veil and you've already said her name."

He stares blankly at me for a moment, then at Rook.

"What are you saying, that after all these years my final moments will be spent pondering a fault of misspoken words? I know we have our disagreements, but do you really think that little of me?" he mocks.

I sit quietly, thinking of a response. It's this action that make me realize the wind has stopped blowing, and the temperature has risen significantly. In the time it takes me to realize this, I'm unexpectedly swept into the air by an unseen force and levitated just in front of the noose. Just behind it, I'm met with a pair of charcoal eyes.

With a grin, I say, "Hello, my name is Venomitus. What's your name?"

"It's hardly the time for games, _Keeper_ ," the mismagius says. "Now tell me what you're here for, or I'll hang you on this rope."

For a moment, I wait for Sepullen to respond to her, before realizing he's likely waiting for her to hang me before he does so. Though he'll likely take enjoyment from it, I know that _they_ know that I can't suffocate. Sadists. It's at this moment that I realize how foolish all who seek immortality really are. Because I can't be killed, but I'm not very powerful; I'm nothing more than a walking pincushion waiting to be prodded by every degenerate passerby.

It just so happens that the only degenerate in the immediate vicinity is the _relic master_ , as Vanish doesn't seem to be interested in hanging me just yet. Likely to Sepullen's disappointment, she remains intent on getting an answer rather the putting on a show. In fact, after a long period of silence, she drops me on the ground without a word.

"Did the great Arceus herself create you loves without ears? _Respond!_ "

Of course, I respond with; "Actually, Sepullen was created using a ritual the brings inanimate objects to life, and yes, being a claydol means that-"

"I'll have none of your jabbering. The only talking you'll be doing is answering my question, both of you."

"Are you… commanding me Witch?" Sepullen asks. "I would tread lightly with those words."

"Please, I'm a ghost the revels in harm to others and myself. Otherwise, the veil gives me absolute power here, and is generated using a coat of nevermeltice that can only be destroyed by my own sacred fire. So no, I will not 'tread lightly' on my own sacred ground, love. My word is absolute, and so long as you're bloody here, abide by it."

Even with all her brag, I notice a nearly insignificant quake from her as she says the last part. Could it be that… someone is here in town that doesn't abide by her rules. After studying the works and mentality of Team Fade, it's difficult to think that any of them would be fearful of anything. I'm sure that by that assumption, Sepullen has already made note of a possible enemy.

After a brief silence, Sepullen says, "Fine, Venomitus here has detected the energy of a relic. I summoned you on purpose to get personal permission to search the town, then be out within seventeen hours."

"Relic, you say? By chance, who does it belong to?"

"Rook's intel suggests it belongs to one... Captain Dumpster."

 **Fractal Bay**

"I've seen a lot of things in my time, but this…", I say while watching Dumpster and a drapion carry Sinista below deck. Lorem appears beside me, but even though he's making the same expression he always does, he doesn't seem to be in an antagonistic mood. He just folds his hands and adjusts his posture.

"Looks painful," he starts. "She had it coming, you know. If she had just-"

"Don't, Lorem. No one deserves that… torture."

Sometimes, I almost believe that Lorem isn't part of my imagination. Even with how he is right now, it never occured to me even once to try to rationalize Sinista's pain. The only one at fault here is Witch. If I ever see that mismagius again, I'll… probably do nothing. Next to me, Lorem laughs under his breath.

"On the contrary, Branna, I believe everyone deserves to feel pain on some level. However, I do believe those who torture deserve- Oh… I shouldn't tell you. You aren't ready to hear that, so I guess I should say they deserve something 'really bad'."

Really bad, huh? I really can't tell if he's trying to intimidate me or what, but whatever it is, it's working. Intimidated by a thought, that's a first. It's only when I look over at the ship's cracked steering wheel that I remember; no one's driving the ship, and we're still stuck on an undersea sandbar.

"So, if the captain's takin' care of Sinista below deck, who's gonna get us ashore?" I ask.

Lorem doesn't seem to acknowledge what I ask. Instead, he turns vigilantly toward the town. His eyes seem to track the movement of an approaching object, but looking myself, I have a hard time seeing anything specific through the fog.

"A ghost," he says. "It's not witch again, but… something about this one is familiar. Wait, I know this one! Isn't this the perfect reunion."

He turns to look at me and I can tell that he would likely smile wider if he could. Who could he be talking about? Then again, why ask? It's not like he's going to give me a straight answer. So instead, I turn to him and ask, "Enemy?"

He shakes his head vigorously, "Not to you, not to you. Oh, this is going to be so much fun." Shortly after, he disappears and I shout, "Hey wait, where you- He's gone. _Great_."

I guess I wait, then. Looking around, I realize no one's on deck. I figure the crew's probably below deck fixing the haul. It's strange, with all the commotion that's happened just within the last hour, it's eerily silent. No winds blow, no waves crash at the bottom of the ship. It's almost as if the day stopped altogether. Though, there is one thing; It's gotten exponentially colder.

Likely _because_ the wind isn't blowing, I'm able to feel an otherwise unnoticeable gust. I blink rapidly when a small particle floats into my eye. As it waters I think, _was that a snowflake?_ It's July if I remember correctly, so why is it snowing?

"So, let me tell you a story while you're out here alone," someone says from somewhere to my right. I look over to find a froslass hovering only a few feet away from the edge of the ship. She looks at me narrowly with her arms crossed. Even despite her demeanor, she doesn't seem hostile.

Like Lorem said, there's definitely something familiar about her. I've met her before, but… where? I suddenly regain a memory. It's of me as a snivy, but I'm with a snorunt and a torchic. I remember that we were… friends? No, we were like family, living on Mt. Blaze. I'm pretty sure that we formed a rescue team together on the air continent. Lyle was the torchic's name, and the snorunt's name was Frost, no…

"You're… Ku-"

"Be careful, Branna. Saying the mismagius' name under the veil just summons her," she warns. "But I don't care for that tripe, so saying my name, _especially_ my true name will freeze you, then disintegrate you slowly in the most painful way possible over the course of the next ten years."

Her voice is monotone and cold, not to be on the nose. To think, after all this time she would become so cruel. I look at her directly when I notice a mass of red form under one of her glassy green eyes. It drips down her face like a tear. The only thing that the froslass bothers to do is catch it on her hand as it falls off her face.

"Would you look at that," she says with almost a somber happiness. "Seeing me now… it's already tarnished your memory of me and yet… I still won't disappear. Which reminds me why I'm here."

She lets down her arms and drifts through the air closer to me, but not too close. I notice her struggling to keep her eyes on me, and it gets worse the closer she comes. She even starts to shiver, not likely from her own cold.

"I came to... sink this ship. Let me explain, I've lived every day for the past twenty years waiting for the day I would be forgotten. I heard some time ago that your friend, Mr. Money, killed Lyle after he went mad. On that day, I thought I would die with him. Tee-hee, how stupid of me. It seems that even after all this time, you still remember me."

It's at this point that she looks away from me entirely and strikes the Antikytherum, breaking it the rest of the way.

"But damn! They just had to be good memories too. When we die, why do we get a second chance?" She lifts her hand from where the steering wheel used to be. I stare at her for a moment. Should I say something? I haven't seen her for twenty-some years, I shouldn't just say nothing. Wait, she's… laughing?

"You know what's funny?" she asks. "When I heard you were here, I was furiously happy. I had a plan too. Dumpster happened to tick me off today, and I heard you were on board. I thought, why not kill two birds with one stone, or two pokemon by sentencing them to the bottom of the ocean. You would die, and then no one would remember anything good about me. The thing is, I can't do it."

 _Oh, that's no fun,_ Lorem whispers in my mind. Though a slightly different person than I remember, if she's the same as I knew her, she never did anything without a reason. What will she do now?

"What do you think- No, what do you _remember_ now, Branna? Is this broken shell of the friend you once had worth remembering?" she says in a voice that barely resembles a taunt.

I do remember when we were younger, Frost would tell me her fantasies about where she thought we'd end up in the future. Most of the time, she would talk about having a big base, likely a mansion. Even though she would talk about extravagant things, she never once got ahead of herself. She knew how hard it would be to get there, and she never imagined any version of her future without me or Lyle.

Though, Lyle's dead now, she's on a team with one of the most evil people I've ever met, and I'm in a foreign land looking for my surrogate child. I bet Frost never had any of this in mind when she would talk about being better than 'every rescue or exploration team on the face of the planet'. Even still…

"Fr-," I start, before remembering that awful ice-degeneration thing she mentioned a second ago. "Listen, this… you aren't what I imagined. Even still, I don't want… I don't want to forget you."

Frost averts her eyes at the ground.

"I see," she says. "Then… do us both a favour and sink the ship for me."  
I protest, "But the crew-"

"Forget them!" She shouts. "How can you let me go on like this!"

Though she appears angry, I hear the clear desperation in her voice. Does she really want to die that much? Is it really a bad thing; returning from death? I can name a few people right off my head that deserve a second chance. Lyle for one, but unlike my memories of Frost, his aren't good ones. He's dead and yet, I bet he and Frost would trade places if given the chance.

"Fine then, screw 'em," I say. "I'll sink the ship, and it's crew. That'll drown me, and then when I'm gone, no one will remember you. If it's really worth it to you, what choice do I have?"

At first, she doesn't respond. Lorem laughs from somewhere distant.

Finally she says, "This is… below you, Branna. I know you're trying to make me feel guilty, but you know what? Even you should have known that I feel guilty enough. Do you realize that Lyle isn't even a ghost. Do you know what that means!"

She laughs bitterly, "Now there's a story. For the twenty-five years he was alive, neither of us remember anything good of Lyle. Sure, we can appreciate some qualities he had, or respect some of the things he did, but none of it was genuinely good. Rest in peace, dear friend, _traitor_. Sorry for driving you over the edge, but I'm going to have to do that again to our last living comrade. Then the world can bid farewell to the sorry Team Elemental."

By now, I notice she isn't talking to me anymore, but I also notice that for a moment, she seems happy at what she's saying. It's only then that I realize; if Lyle were here and not the way he was at the end of his life, he could convince Frost give her second life a chance. He wasn't the happiest person, but at least he was persuasive.

"We'll see, Frost, if you can push me over the edge, but until I find Cryptia, it won't be that easy. Till then, remember me as the friend you once had, or the one you still can. Take care of yourself."

Without another word, I turn toward the door to the med bay and enter it, taking a quick glance back at her. She isn't there, 'gone with the wind' you might say.


	4. Chapter 4: The Least Of Us

**Blind's Tavern, End Of… Ridge**

Bars are an interesting sort of thing. When a naive idiot works for most of his life with the false promise of someday getting well enough off to retire, what good does it do when half of their life is spent working, and the other half is spent getting intoxicated. Some might say that without a method for relaxing and forgetting life's daily troubles, most couldn't handle it.

I say if that mentality were eliminated, most pokemon could have a least a little chance. If they weren't constantly putting themselves in a cycle of relying on something else to get them through another day, I might applaud any sort of effort. After all, I can't ridicule someone for futilely trying to live anymore than I can ridicule a young bagon for trying to fly.

In any case, no matter what I think about drinking, bars seem to be a good place for entertainment and passing time. Sepullen is trying to pull together a party to try to unbeach the captain Dumpster's ship, _Amalgam_ , from the middle of the bay. Until then, I'm stuck here trying to figure out what to do with myself.

I walk up to the counter, ducking my head as some empoleon throws a glass mug past me in a fit of laughter. Immediately after doing that, I dodge to the side as yet another object flies past me. A knife? I look toward the direction it came from, curious to see who threw it. It's another sableye like myself, but the light in it's eyes are faded and it's gems are cracked.

I walk up to them and ask, "You're not drunk, why the aggression?"

In a feminine voice, the sableye replies, "You walk like someone with a purpose. No disrespect, but this isn't exactly the place for someone like you."

"And what if my purpose is to be here?" I say with a smirk.

She draws another knife and sticks it to my throat. "I get it, you think you're funny, but I'm trying to run a business here, and I don't believe you're going to buy anything."

I stare at her, trying to think of some sort of witty response. It's only now that I realize how good of a mood I'm in. No question that it's because Sepullen and Rook aren't anywhere to be seen. Even then, it doesn't explain this feeling of… excitement?

"Ah, won't you settle down, Blind?" says a soft voice. "That's our dear friend, Venomitus. Besides, who would want to fight on such a wonderful day?"

Curious to see who the speaker is, I turn around to find myself face to face with a persian three times my size. Despite his calm demeanor, he radiates some sort of sinister aura, but also a friendly one. This leads me to believe he's someone I'm going to benefit from being in his good graces, but regret it if I'm not.

"Pardon, did you say Venomitus?" the sableye asks.

"At your service," I say, bowing my head.

The empoleon from earlier abruptly throws himself off of his chair and stumbles onto his feet. He puts his wing and most of his body weight against the persian in a manner that looks like he's trying not to sink into water.

"Oh boss, it's you! Can I kill 'em now? That angry man is coming an' I don't want 'em to hurt you. Know what I'm sayin'?"

The persian looks at him, then gently moves out of the empoleon's way. In an almost unbearable manner, the empoleon knocks his head into the ground and passes out.

"Oh, Rodium," the persian sighs. "I can't take you anywhere, can I?"

 _Rodium?_ I know that name. So the persian must be…

"Mr. Money?" I ask.

"Hmm? Oh yes, quite," he says while staring at Rodium, possibly trying to figure out what to do with him. He rolls the empoleon over, than lifts him onto his back. Still unconscious, Rodium slouches over the persian in a back-breakingly uncomfortable manner.

"Ah well, best be going. I don't know why you're in town, but do let the good Relic Master know that I don't want any quarrels with him. Our business doesn't intertwine, I don't think."

"Heh, I hope not," I chuckle. "Farewell, Mr. Money, and may we never meet again."

He gives me the slyest of smiles. "Don't be so optimistic, Venomitus. You'll find that worst things always come around when you least want them too, but I digress. Farewell to you, and thank you for your hospitality, Blind."

As he walks away, I can't help but wonder if that's the last I'll see of him. Likely not, but we'll only meet under the worst of circumstances. The worst being that Sepullen does something he doesn't like, and he starts hunting our team. After all, he's the one person the 'good Relic Master' is afraid of. It's a shame too, he'd make for a good ally. Oh well, it is what it is. One day it might get through to Sepullen to try to make allies for a change.

"What a character," the sableye comments.

"Definitely. Blind, is it? I'm here looking to pass some time."

She shakes her head with a laugh. "Like I said before, you don't belong here. What'd you expect to find, coming here? The drinks'll do you no favors, and the patrons are…" She looks at a buizel, who chugs a two-liter then vomits into a barrel. "...Not much for conversation, I'd say."

"Maybe, but perhaps I came to muse at their less-than-desirable quality of life," I reply.

"That so?" She says in more of a comment. "I find it disgusting, these lowlifes. But bless their souls, they're better off then they were."

Better off? The drunken have given up, and those who give up are dead. How could any living soul possibly be better of then what they once were? All things considered, even my lifeless form hasn't given up yet, so how can the living?

"Every once in a great while, someone will pass through just to get a drink. They'll relax, then be on their merry way. But frequent customers, they stay from dusk till dawn, even more sometimes."

She walks behind the counter, tapping her feet and claws on nearby surfaces as she does so. She pulls a bottle of liquid ginseng, pulls the cork, then pours a glass. She extends the drinks out to me and nods her head.

"Try some," she says. "I think you'll find it interesting, to say the least."

I take the glass in my claws, holding it at eye level for a brief moment. What could be so interesting about ginseng? Sure, she could have mixed something with it to alter the taste, but I have my doubts about it. Reluctantly, I ingest it in a swift motion. At first, I don't taste anything, just the liquid just moving past my teeth with the thickness of pulp. Then, all at once, it hits me. Not the bitter taste of ginseng, but the foul, cold taste of rot and decay.

I burns my throat as I force myself to swallow it. Blind smiles and watches my face contort in multiple ways, as if trying to eject the taste from my entire system. Not able to control myself, she forces some pure, crystaline water down my throat, immediately eliminating all traces of the ginseng.

"That, Venomitus, is what I give to frequent customers after they're too drunk to notice what it is. I'll be blunt, what you just drank was Ambrosia, the most lethal poison in Archaea. Let me just say, for how torturous it is, you should be glad you're already a ghost."

I stare at her, absolutely dumbfounded. Yet, not mortified. This… is a different kind of mad. She not only found a purpose for herself, but one founded on mercy. Others would look in horror at her actions, but for the first time in a long time, I'm actually proud of someone.

True, I do have a strict set of morals, but that doesn't mean that mine are in alliance with the valiant knights like Mr. Money or his team. For that, there is only one reason; very few are willing to admit that some lives are wasted and irredeemable. Of course, that is barring those like Sepullen who think _all_ life other than their own is worthless.

Regardless, I can't help but wonder why she would reveal this in the first place. What does she stand to gain?

"Venomitus, there's something I have to say. Being unable to see, it's had its ups and downs, but there's one clear benefit. I remember clearly the last things I saw, and… I remember good things of you."

 **Away Street, End Of… Ridge**

 _Damn it! Damn it! Damn it!_ What was I thinking? I couldn't do it. I couldn't sink the ship after all this time. How much longer will I have to endure the everlasting pain of life? All this over a stupid memory too. That settles it, if I can't kill her then I'll drive her to kill herself. It's the only way.

"Oh what am I on about? This was only one failure out of many possible success'."

Away Street, despite its name, is usually a busy street. However, it's due to a presence of a certain someone that it's completely vacant. If I were anywhere else, I'd rather blend into a crowd then be easy pickings for some muggers or…

Out of the corner of my eye, I barely catch a glimpse of a large silver mass as it rams into me with full force. Unable to stop myself in mid air, I'm crushed between the object and a house made almost completely out of outward facing spikes. The spikes pierce through multiple parts of my body, leaving me looking like one of the town's many wonderful decorations.

The object, using some sort of thrusters, flies back from the building and pulls me along with it. I feel a cold, metallic limb hold me against the ground with unimaginable force. All the while, I can do nothing as by body slowly repairs itself. The object, or pokemon I'm assuming, rolls me over. The hunk of metal, covered in my blood, is a metagross.

Spitting up blood, I say, "Aren't you going to do the speech thing? I _am_ under arrest, aren't I?"

"Frost of Team Fade, you are hereby under arrest under Goldmine jurisdiction and authority of Team Gold," he says in a monotone, robotic voice.

"Tee-hee, I didn't think it would be that easy. Well, I'll be going now."

"False," he says.

I already start to see ice forming over the surface of his metal hide. He tries to lift one of his front legs, but all it does is jerk violently. What follows is the ear-stabbing ring of malfunctional machinery. If he'd only done his research before challenging me directly. He did get me alone, but that's not that hard to do.

"As I said, I'm going. You'll make a great centerpiece for the street, I suppose."

"False," he repeats.

I brush myself off and make a fake thinking pose. "I suppose you're right, 'great' wouldn't be the word to describe you, but the street could use some decor that isn't trying to… well, kill everything that walks by it."

From an alleyway, a jet of blue fire sprays at the metagross with intense force. I shield my eyes from the sheer brightness of its energy. The sound of gears and mechanics sounds over the fire in the form of a sharp whirring noise. His legs slams into the ground as his gears shift back into place, creating a small crater in the limestone.

The brightness dies down, and the only thing I'm left to do is to stare at the metagross' and his noticeable non-frozen body. Nevermeltice obviously isn't suppose to melt, so what gives? It's only till I realize the only plausible explanation.

"Poor, sickly froslass," a pleasant voice says from the alleyway. "Why do you bleed? Only the living bleed. To my knowledge, there hasn't ever been a living ghost."

Of course. You're always so carefree, Mr. Money. No pokemon is that carefree. I've been trying to live that way for so long, but no one would be wrong if they said I'm more bitter than I used to be. Even now I'll admit, I've probably failed for the second time today.

"And I thought today was the perfect day to relax… sit back… enjoy the sea… the town. Oh well, I heard somewhere that the longer you run, the faster your sins catch up to you."

As the persian steps into the light, I lower myself to the ground and put my hands forward. I knew from the very moment I sought out Vanish all those years ago that this is how my undead would end up.

"Curious, why do you submit? You could still fight," he says in a genuine, non-mocking way.

I raise my head up, but I don't look at him. Strangely, I know he isn't judging me, but I feel like he's judging me in the way of a jury that doesn't care one way or another if the subject is guilty or not, but has to reach a verdict to go home. No, he's more patient than that.

"I've spent a long time trying to live a quiet, peaceful life. That's why people come to End Of, isn't it? Now that you're here, even if I win against you it'll never be the same."

He doesn't say anything, but I can feel him staring down at me. Even so, he doesn't seem like he thinks he's superior to me, but he knows I'm not going to do anything at this point.

"So be it," he says. "I can appreciate a soul searching for redemption, and one who appreciates the smaller things. While that doesn't excuse your past crimes, I will promise you this; while under my surveillance, you will not be harmed or treated maliciously."

I look up at him and say, "Thank you, but… how did you know how to dissolve the nevermeltice?"

He nods his head, motioning another pokemon forward. A large salamence steps into the light with an unconscious Rodium on his back. Ember. For some reason, I've heard a few pokemon call him the Star Eater.

"Nevermeltice is only normally unmeltable because it's made from magic, not light like most other abilities. Sacred fire is another such ability. Magic fire melts magic ice, simple enough."

He smirks, "Metal Claw here doesn't have any capacity for magic, but dragons, ghosts, and fairies seem to have a natural attunement to it. That's where Ember comes in. As for where we discovered that little secret. Let's just say that the less fortunate are always the most honest. That's why I've learned to especially trust the words of the blind."


	5. Chapter 5: A Master's Arrogance

**STS** _ **Amalgam**_ **, Fractal Bay (Branna)**

Sinista's screams of raw agony reach all the way to the steerage, where Dumpster oversees the hull repairs. I wait patiently beside him for the crew to finish, and wince every half minute or so when the dragalge involuntarily unleashes the loudest, screechiest screech her vocal chords can possibly handle.

The captain, bless his soul, is likely feeling guilty at the fact that he had no choice but to let her get hurt, but also that a ship made of garbage maybe isn't the best conditions to treat third degree burns. That, paired with the ship not having a proper medical room or supplies makes it all the more painful to think about.

I guess poison types are so used to being immune to most diseases that they wouldn't think twice about carrying anything that isn't related to their… _merchandise_. Alcohol, narcotics, psychedelics, poison… anything else undesirable by most probably has its place on this ship. I wouldn't know where, but that was one of the conditions the captain made me agree to, was not to go through a few doors, and not to go unsupervised below deck unless I was in the guest room.

In this very room, chained to the ceiling are several crates and barrels full of golden liquid. Some fully prepared in bottles for selling, I guess. Squinting, I make out the faded letters on the side of one. 'Ambrosia', it says. The drink must be popular just with the sheer amount of it that's stacked in rows along the length of the ship.

Noticing my obvious curiosity, Dumpster warns, "I shan't think you be drinkin' that, Missy Branna."

"Not a chance, captain. Alcohol doesn't go over well with us grass types," I say.

"Har! This ain't no alcohol, if I ever seen any. Missy, that there don't go over well with any unfortunate soul. Kyogre herself'd sink ta the depths from it."

A realization strikes me in the face harder than any pokemon's attack.

"Poison, then?"

"Aye, the kind so deathly, puts us poison types to shame."

What would anyone want with something like that. The nations of Archaea are known for there brutal, up front approach to battle. Bone Clan and the Nest are the primary competitors, but there are others. The freelancing factions of the cities of Articune and Goldmine would never resort to such low levels of warfare. That leaves the territories of Sepullen's Team Ruin, the gardevoir Emerald's monarchy, Vanish and Team Fade, the empoleon Myro, and desolate frozen northeast ruled by Ignesius.

Vanish the witch. For however much of a horrible disgrace of a pokemon she is, I don't imagine she'd use poison. She's not subtle. From what I've seen of her so far, she likes to make a scene. If the screams and screeches weren't already evidence enough.

Oh, of course. Just when I thought things couldn't get any more uncomfortable, Lorem appears beside me. He isn't looking at me. Instead, he's watching the workers weld the various pieces of the ship together and ferociously battle any incoming water.

"Why don't you just ask him?" he says. "Ask the good captain who the poison is going to."

 _What makes you think he's going to tell me that?_

"I don't think he's going to tell you, but I just want to see what he says."

Do I, though? The captain has been good to me so far, but I don't want to push it…

Despite my thoughts I ask, "Where's all this goin' anyways?"

The captain looks down at me, then at the cargo. He stares at them for a second, then a confused expression paints his face.

"I, eh…" he starts. "By the life o' me, I can't recall."

He lumbers over to one of the crates and lifts a tag to his ginormous eye level.

"Ah, lets see 'ere. Mmm, yes. Blind's the lass' name. She runs a tavern 'ere in End Of… Ridge."

"Wait, all this for one person?" I ask.

Before he can answer, a ringing sound so high pitched and loud it cancels out Sinista's screams, rings in my head. Apparently, everyone else can hear it too, because the workers stop what they're doing and try to cover their ears, and Dumpster looks around at everyone else looking mildly irritated.

Lorem is the only one that doesn't seem to be remotely affected, as he looks on with the same old smile on his face and doesn't say anything. The sounds lasts for about a minute, then quiets down. A powerful voice forces its way into our heads, almost as if the pokemon couldn't have just, you know, came to where we are and talked to us normally.

"Captain of the _Amalgam_ , I am here to see you about something you possess! Come to the upper deck where I may speak to you at once!"

The ringing noise, along with the intruder's commanding voice, disappears. Captain Dumpster raises his arm above him and smashes it into the ground.

"Blasted inlander! Never been ta sea 'fore, 'as he? A good seafarer knows ya don't tell a cap what ta do, _on 'is own blasted ship!_ "

Dumpster storms toward the stairs to the upper deck, making only a brief hand motion for me to follow him. Of course, I'm not about to refuse, so I trail close behind him.

"Oh, isn't this fun. It's one thing and another, just marvelous," Lorem comments.

 _For you maybe, but to the rest of us, today's been chaos._

"Chaos? Today's just setting the stage for what's to come, I feel. If you can't handle that, what's to say you'll be able to find your precious child?"

 _You wanna bet? I said I'll be on this stupid continent for three months, that's a promise._

"Promise or no promise, it won't be easy. I would tell you to give up, but I know you already will."

 **Upper Deck**

"This better be good if ya know what's good fer ya!" the captain warns as he shoves open the door to the upper deck. In his action, the door flies off its hinges and lands with a crash somewhere out of my view. I slither out of the doorway and slither around the captain. In front of him is a claydol with his back facing us. A red scarf hangs off of it, only slight twitching in the almost nonexistent wind.

"You have nerve," a deep voice rings. "If I didn't think you were thinking irrationally in your anger, I might've mistook that for a threat."

The claydol turns around and looks at Dumpster with burning orange eyes.

"Don't speak to me in such a way again or there will be immediate consequence."

Despite his hesitance against Vanish earlier, this intruder doesn't faze the captain in the slightest. He storms toward the claydol and raises his fist.

"Listen 'ere, little-more-than-four eyes, the only one be given orders 'round 'ere is the dead hag. Ain't no one but 'er, an' the ice hag orderin' me."

The claydol stares up at him, then makes some sort of noise resembling a grunt.

"You need not worry about them. An anonymous tip let the troublesome Mr. Money know the location of Fade Mansion. They should be gone in the next… thirteen hours. Meanwhile, you are Captain Dumpster of the _Amalgam_ , or am I mistaken?"

In his barely withheld anger, a purplish poison oozes from the edges of the captain's body. Some bubbles up, then pops, burning my skin from only the slightest droplets. The two pokemon stare each other down, unrelenting. It almost reminds me of what Lyle and Frost would do in their many rivalries.

For some reason, the claydol breaks eye contact with the captain and looks at me. No, he's looking past me. I didn't think anyone had followed me up here. One of the crew could've, but the captain explicitly told them not to come up until the hull repairs are done. I turn a little, but I immediately recognize Lorem's black raincoat and his white hands folded together in front of him.

Just to be sure, I trace the claydol's gaze between it and Lorem several times, before realizing that Lorem is staring at me like I'm and idiot, and the claydol isn't looking at me much differently. The psychic-type's attention is drawn back to the captain, when the garbodor steps closer to it in an aggressive manner.

"No mistake here inlander. I be Captain Dumpster o' tha grand STS _Amalgam._ What name should I shout ta Kyogre when I throw ya over tha side?"

The claydol hovers forward to meet the captain face-to-face.

"Allow me to introduce myself. I am Relic Master Sepullen, leader of Team Ruin. I mentioned before that I'm here for something you possess, a relic."

A relic? I wonder if he's talking about the antikytherum. It seems relicy enough, and I'm not sure expensive treasures are part of the captain's usual merchandise.

"An antikytherum?" I hear Sepullen say to himself. "We already have three of those. How disappointing."

Oh, I forgot. Normally, it's considered rude for a psychic-type to read another's mind without permission, but certain pokemon that can't communicate without telepathy have to be constantly connected to the minds around them. Even so, it doesn't make it any less uncomfortable, and this claydol is putting an uncomfortable amount of pressure on my mind.

A psychic-type is also usually lightly connected to the mind, but this _Sepullen_ seems to want to dig into not only my thoughts, but my memories, emotions, personal fears and goals. He isn't even trying to hide it either. He probably knows me better now, than any partner or friend I ever had. Well, except Lorem, but I made him up. Didn't I?

"In truth," Sepullen starts. "My purpose for coming here wasn't only the relic."

It's not like he would want it anyway, the captain and Frost both had a hand in smashing it to pieces.

"Two months ago, I led a search alongside Team Life Energy. We partnered up, only because we were searching for the same, elusive myth. The Agents of Spirits, powerful pokemon selected by the legendaries to be vessels of power. Unlike the legendaries however, they can move about the world seamlessly."

Jude and Cryptia were likely looking for them for the thrill of the adventure, but I wonder what Sepullen wants with an urban legend. Somehow, it doesn't seem like something like that's worth his time.

"You there, serperior. Are you not the surrogate mother of the umbreon Cryptia?" he asks.

Cryptia was abandoned at such a young age, that she doesn't even remember who her family was. No child should ever have to fend for themself like she did, so I adopted her off the streets of a small town in Stratos. It was just the two of us until she brought home Jude. I almost laugh at how skeptical I was when Jude insisted that he was a human. Well, it's not the first time I've been wrong.

"I am, and she was in your care the last time I checked. What gives?"

"It wasn't in my power to prevent whatever befell them," Sepullen says. "Come, let me show you where I left off in my search, which was nothing compared to the knowledge they've found."

I suddenly have the sneaking suspicion that Jude got excited in his research and never told Sepullen what they found. A split second after this realization, I realize that the floor beneath me isn't the scratchy metal plating of the _Amalgam_ , but rather a hardwood floor. The smell resembles the hull deck still, but it's much more potent. More importantly, however, is the absence of Sinista's screams. Because I had tuned them out a while ago, I didn't realize how significant the sound still was until now, when they've completely gone silent.

 **Blind's Tavern, End Of… Ridge**

This claydol clearly has thrown any sort of manners or courtesy out to rot. The forceful prying into my brain first, and now this. Teleport is a useful ability to have, but using it on another pokemon is not always safe. Most psychic's will have another pokemon hold onto them as a sign of consent, but Sepullen didn't even wait till a was paying attention. I do have to give him credit, though. It takes immense energy, and usually a pokemon will have to prepare themselves, but Sepullen did it seamlessly without effort.

In any case, it would seem I'm back among familiar faces. That is, among drunken idiots who don't know their left foot from their other left foot. A buizel in particular, who has an entire boatload of empty bottles scattered (in pieces) around the floor next to him, has his head shoved as far as it can go down a keg of rum. I wouldn't be surprised in the slightest, if he had lost his mind in there and was looking for it.

My home town is filled with people just like this, but somehow _they_ make it work. The people here just drink and dance around lazily, but back on Stratos, the towners drink and work synonymously, like one can't happen without the other. I don't drink of course, being equal parts pokemon and tree. I did try to take care of a garden of flowers with just alcohol once. That garden is now my fungus garden.

"I thought he would be here… Must've made a mistake," Sepullen mutters to himself.

I should've guessed that he didn't come to the town alone. He seems powerful enough on his own, and is obviously arrogant. I dread to know what kind of company he keeps.

"Hehe, Sepullen. I congratulate you on making your first friend," a deep, gruff voice mocks.

" _Relic Master_ Sepullen in front of guests, Venomitus."

Two distinctly different sableye walk toward us from a corner of the room. The one with green gems for eyes holds the second one's claw. I can tell that they aren't lovers, rather he's guiding the other one through the room. On closer inspection, the second sableye's eyes are cracked, and the ominous glow that most ghosts have is faded.

"Okay _Relic Master_ , did you bring back a relic, or was this trip another waste of time?"

Sepullen looks at me briefly, then back at them. "There was a relic. An Antikytherum," he says.

Venomitus grins. "Wow, did a good job there didn't you? We already have three of those. Oh well, at least we can sell it."

"We cannot, unfortunately," Sepullen says. "It was broken when I got there, but I didn't even come here for that in the first place. This is Miss Branna, a - _ahem-_ valuable asset in the upcoming campaign."

"Did you just… clear your throat, Sepullen?"

The claydol ignores him, instead he asks me, "Will you join Team Ruin and… _Venomitus_ , on an expedition to find Team Life Energy? We are going to retrace our steps, and from there, discover what happened to them."

"Sure thing, lead the way."

 **Fade Mansion, End Of… Ridge (Frost)**

I take a breath. I feel sorry for you sister, but you need this. You need to be brought down to the level of the rest of us. Pokemon… they come to this town to escape the rest of the world, to disappear. You, you came to be some sort of deity. They do fear you, but they don't worship you. They see you for the false god you are, and so do I.

Besides, you're the only one who's still serious about the Fade name. Team Fade is as worn out as Team Elemental is now. I've known from the start that Blind never wanted to be a part of it in the first place. Revenge, he's just your pet at this point. Me? I just wanted to live out my infinite undeath in peace, but that isn't happening anymore.

"Are you prepared, Frost?" Mr. Money asks.

"Sure."

Mr. Money and I watch the front of the mansion. Vanish doesn't seem to be home, so we're waiting. It shouldn't take long, she goes out more than the rest of us do, but she still spends most of her time here.

However, if she's spying on the Relic Master, this could take a while. I know already that he, Rook, and Venomitus are here for something on the Amalgam, but I don't know if Branna has anything to do with it or not. Who cares, anyway?

"Did you loves think you could get the drop on little ol' me? Come on now."

Oh well, it was worth a try. It finally ends today, Vanish. Team Fade, you, this town. Get ready to say goodbye.

 **Next: Special Episode: The Gatekeeper**


	6. Chapter 6: The Gatekeeper

**Special Episode: The Gatekeeper**

There have been, well… too many theories about why dreams exist. To some extent, a lot of them are true. Dreams can be used as a form of psychotherapy, or to process information from the previous day. For some of us however, dreams are physical worlds hosted from our own minds and thoughts. We can do with them as we please, and no one can take that away from us.

My dream… I call it the Gateway. The only purpose it serves me outside of a sanctum to meditate is as a bridge between worlds. It lies within a plane of existence that is barely connected to almost every other conscious world.

This is why, unlike others I know, my dream doesn't take the form of a grassy plane or a cathedral. Instead, it's a colorful empty void. Light refracts off of every little particle here like a rainbow, but it's not blinding. Contrarily, it's quite pleasing to look at.

At the moment though, I'm not looking at anything. I've been meditating for quite some time. Days? Weeks? Years? I don't know. There's no reason to leave. I've done enough work in the conscious worlds in the past to deserve some peace of mind. I don't crave company either, but I've left my dream open so that others can come visit if they want to.

No one has, and honestly that's not surprising. All the people that called themselves my friends are following that tyrant Sollavera. Just because she once saved a city from extinction by acting as it's sun doesn't mean she should still be praised for it. Besides, Loran is so old of a city hardly any of us remember it.

Then again, since my perception of time is more than a little off. Most of the cities that were there when I left could be just as ancient. I'll be surprised if I ever do decide to come back and the Agents of Spirits haven't managed to destroy the world.

A dark presence. Someone has entered my dream. Emerald? No, if it was my sister I would know. This presence is a subtle one, and one that has a natural attunement to dreams. I've only ever felt this from various absol and… darkrai.

"Aphot, is that you?" I say.

My throat hurts from talking for the first time in a while, so my words only come out in a whisper. Still sitting on the ground, legs crossed, I open my eyes. Immediately, I'm met with the deep blue eyes of a pokemon with personal space issues.

"Why yes, Felicia, it's me," he whispers back.

I use the spatial power I have over the dream to increase the distance between us by a few feet. It's only now that he's away from me that I notice that the normally vibrant colors shifting around the dream have turned to various shades of dark purple and white.

"Please stop doing that, I don't have enough energy as it is."

Either he can't hear me or he's not listening, because even while staring at me, he's still eating my dream. At this rate, any remaining energy I have will be siphoned to him. I know he knows I'll die if that happens.

"You were once a powerhouse," he says. "Now look at you. Weak, frail, less powerful than any other gardevoir."

There is truth to what he says. I haven't moved in a very long time. Even as a slender species, this can't be healthy. More importantly though…

"What are you doing here, Aphot? I never intend to visit the outside world again, so I'm no danger to you or whatever plot you have brewing this time. I'm done playing savour, and I'm done with the Agents."

He stares at me, then laughs hysterically.

"You're lying aren't you? How comical. You pretend you don't desire to leave, when ultimately, you can't."

How did he…? Nevermind. Did he just come here to mock me, piss me off, kill me?

"On a serious note, you _are_ going back to the outside world, and you're going to help me with the 'plot' I'm brewing. As for playing savour, well, we'll see."

He wraps his arm around my waist and lifts me over his back. I hold onto him the best I can, but I realize that I'm even more physically weak than I initially thought.

"Why me?" I ask. "There are so many other pokemon you could choose from. As a pawn, or otherwise."

He sighs. Keeping one arm over me, he raises his other hand and opens a dimensional hole out of the dream.

"You may not realize it, but… I'm doing you a favor. Besides, I owe my life to your sister, and you owe yours to that little fiend."

Venomitus. Yes, I do owe everything to him. He never did anything for me, or to me, and yet I was the one who destroyed his life. It was me who took away his home, family, best friend. If only Nocturan were still here…

"One more thing," Aphot says. "The real danger to my plans is not you. That memory turned up in Archaea. It's latched onto Wing's child. She calls it 'Lorem'."

 **So this chapter is much shorter than the rest of them, and that's just because a wanted to experiment with these characters a little. The main plot will resume in the next chapter. Also as always, I accept most OCs as long as they fit into the world of my story and wouldn't seem out of place. At this point in time, EonTheZoarark and RodiumTech are the only ones that have submitted OCs, so I have plenty of room for characters.**

 **-** _ **Vein Locke**_


	7. Chapter 7: Hydra

" _The face of evil is a seven-headed beast, an unsupressable one. Sever one head, two more take its place. I surmise even starving it of what it craves will just make it all the more viscious." -_ _The Things That Make Heaven Quake_ _, Nocturan_

 **Fade Mansion, End Of… Ridge (Frost)**

I'm going to get something out of the way, I'm nothing like Vanish. She's flashy, power hungry, tyrannical, but there is one thing we agree on. We both like to get straight to the point, there's no need for drawn out introductions. That's why when she saw me with Mr. Money, it didn't take long for her to connect two-and-two.

In all honesty, I prefer that we get this over with. I do want to move on, but this whole thing isn't easy, especially since she did save my life at my lowest point. Besides that, she has been good to me and let's me have my space when I need it. All good things end though, and unfortunately this is no different.

Not wanting to prolong this uncomfortable staring contest between her, Mr. Money, and I, I materialize an ice shard in my hand and fire it like a bullet at Vanish. Next to me, Mr. Money's fur crackles violently with electric sparks. With astonishing speed, he and I both shoot toward the mismagius, kicking up dust and dirt behind us.

I appear in front of Vanish just before the ice shard hits her and shove it even faster through her neck. Mr. Money appears behind her as she flies backward and catches her sideways between his teeth. Almost immediately, he chomps down as hard as he can, his teeth almost exploding from the shear strength of the electricity flowing throughout her body. She shrieks in pain, but retaliates by trying to burn Mr. Money with a will-o-wisp. He shrugs of the fairly insignificant flames without effort, but spits her onto the ground.

She rests lifelessly on the ground between Mr. Money and I, unable to move. Turning herself over, she gives me the most spiteful scowl.

"How loathsome of you, dear Frost. I thought I knew what to expect of you. Futility, wallowing in your own self-pity, but betrayal?" Vanish accuses.

I stare down at her relatively calmly. Mr. Money drags her forward to put some sort of ring around her. I'm guessing it suppresses magic, which means she also won't be able to levitate.

"No, not betrayal," I say. "I accepted my loss and moved on. I think I actually put up more of a fight than you did."

"How dare you! Under the veil I am a saint! A god! You can't take that away from me!" she screams.

"Quite contrarily," Mr. Money inputs. "The veil makes you able to punish all who speak your name. This ring I've confined you in disconnects you from all magic. The only person who's connected to the veil now is Frost... who has kindly deactivated the terrible consequences that come with speaking her name."

Mr. Money exhales intensely in relief. I suddenly remember that…

"Wait, I never told you that I deactivated my part of the spell," I say.

"Ah, well, yes. That's true, but I seem to have accidentally said your name a moment ago, and well, here I am."

With Vanish captive, all that's left is Revenge. Then, I have to travel all the way to Goldmine with Team Gold. What have I gotten myself into?

 **Rock Path, Southern Twisted Crags (Branna)**

"Why don't you, say, teleport us back to Fort Ruin instead of making us walk?"

"Great question, Venomitus. The answer is that given the distance, I only have to energy to teleport four bodies. Now, if you hadn't brought _one extra person,_ I might be able to."

Blind, Rook, and I follow closely behind Venomitus and Sepullen, laughing at the three mile long feud they've been having ever since we left End Of… Ridge. Blind clings to my back while we move. I meant to ask her how she went blind in the first place, but I can't think of a way to not sound impolite. Besides, Sepullen and Venomitus have been bickering non-stop since we left, but no one else has said anything. It would be a little weird if I just brought it up out of nowhere. I don't imagine she would respond anyway. She brought a bottle of Ambrosia with her, and has been drinking it slowly.

"Don't spill any on me, I don't feel like dying today."

Most other pokemon would have to ingest the poison to be affected, but being a serperior, liquid soaks through my skin easily. Though I'm not sure how long it would take to kill me, I'm not really in the mood to find out.

"Hold on," Blind says after taking a sip. "Dying's not that bad. When you die, you find out if you've lived a worthwhile life."

"How so?" I ask.

She throws the bottle to the side. It shatters instantly against the rocky ground.

"Well, you only become a ghost if someone has good memories of you, not bad ones. Knowing that's good enough for me."

I never thought of it that way. Maybe the concept of death isn't as frightening as everyone makes it out to be. Still, I have a lot things to do while I'm alive. A second chance is never a guaranteed thing.

"Blind, the way the Relic Master says it, you're new to this little group like I am. How do you know Venomitus?"

"We and four others were mercs. Venomitus is like a brother to me," she says.

"Brother to you, in reality, a cretin," Rook mumbles. "Unlike you, he's no simpleton, but a bad egg found amongst the nest of a most despicable mandibuzz."

With clanky metal footsteps, he picks up his pace to catch up to Sepullen. Neither he or Venomitus notice Rook as they continue to argue.

"Hmm, wonder what that was about."

"Wait, did he just call me a simpleton?" Blind asks.

In the path ahead, we all notice something strange. Two sylveon sit on either side of a rattata that is most definitely not alive anymore. It's chest is busted inward, but everything else is out. Half eaten intestines lay a few feet away, staining the rocks with blood and whatever kind of goo comes from inside a pokemon's body. From the blood around one of the sylveon's mouths, it's not that hard to assume what happened here.

"Kiki, you know I don't like when you do that around me," I hear the cleaner one whine.

"We've been over this, Rose. When I eat, I eat. That's the end of it."

Now it's not uncommon to come across a carnivorous pokemon, but the sheer uncleanliness and savagery of the kill is enough to make any passerby sick. Besides, normally eevee and their evolutions eat berries and small vegetation, and only eat small animals in desperation. The size of the rattata is almost as big as the sylveon.

"Be calm, Miss Branna. The eevee of Archaea have adapted to feed primarily on flesh, as no greenery can grow in the south or west regions of the continent. We call this region the Ashen wastes," Sepullen says. "Even so, this one seems… murderous."

The two sylveons look up and watch us approach. Sepullen stops closest to them, but Rook stands protectively by his side. Venomitus climbs up the bisharp and sits on his shoulder, smiling mischievously at he does so.

"Remove yourself from me, parasite," Rook commands.

He reaches up with his arm and grabs Venomitus' neck and spikes him down to the ground on front of him. The sylveon covered in blood pricks the sableye's skin and frowns. Instead of bleeding, the wound fumes with black smoke and closes itself.

"Damned ghosts. Come on, Rose. I can't eat any of them, except maybe the serperior. She probably doesn't count as living flesh though."

They turn around to leave, but freeze as if time itself decided to stop working all the sudden. _Sepullen._ The psychic aura that binds the sylveons is the same shade of orange as Sepullen's eyes, but his eyes are only glowing faintly.

"Curious," he says. "Even for a carnivorous species, your bloodlust is astounding. More importantly, I don't particularly enjoy your musings about feasting on my company's 'living flesh', whatever that may mean."

Through grit teeth, the sylveon says, "Look pal, I already said that none of you are edible. Clay, metal, and plants don't sound appetizing, and ectoplasm doesn't taste that good."

The Relic Master completely ignores her and asks, "What is your name, strange one?"

"The heavens gave me the name Koncordia."

"The heavens?" Sepullen questions. "Regardless, Koncordia. You and your friend will be joining us for a while."

Why he wants them to travel with us is beyond me, but as long as it doesn't slow us down I'm fine with it. The site of blood isn't new to me, and I doubt Sepullen would let her attack any of us anyway.

Sepullen drags Koncordia and Rose behind him in a psychic bind as we move forward again. I take a brief look at the mangled rattata again and notice something strange. It looks like it was stabbed multiple times by something long like a pike, not a sylveon's claws. It makes me wonder if Koncordia found it dead, rather than being the one who killed it. Who really knows?

 **?**

The halls and rooms of the facility play a kind of music. A song that's been playing for years and years, and yet he never seems to get tired of it. A song the he wants to share with the rest of the world, a shear expression of everything that's a part of him. Because of this, he names the song Xenon, after himself. It has many tones, rhythms, and melodies.

For instance, the beat is set by the clanking of machinery. The low tones are made of the whirring of motors and gears, but the vocals are his favorite. The shrill screeches of so many pokemon in agonizing misery come together in perfect harmony to create the perfect work atmosphere, and Xenon loves his work.

His current project; an oricorio. It's red feathers fit perfectly with the dried blood and rust that paints the rest of the room. He would have prefered to work on it consciously, but the thing keeps passing out from shock every time it wakes up. He hasn't even done anything to it yet.

Turning to his assistant he asks, "What is the nature of this one's regeneration?"

Xenon likes having Iode around, because with all the chemicals he works with everyday, it helps to have a steel-type nearby when things go wrong. Besides, skarmory make good scavengers when someone wants to capture prey.

"None, actually. At least, not yet. Oricorio can change into four forms through various necters found throughout the world. Our target is it's 'Sensu' form, after a human dance. Nectar from the Purpura Flower changes it to this form. It's still living, but it gains a ghost form. In one case a long time ago, I worked on a living ghost. They produce new organs faster than any other pokemon I've seen."

The skarmory clasps a vial of purple nectar in its talons and gives it to Xenon. Taking it into his claws, he is extra careful not to crush it between his claws. Nidoking are normally very reckless and hasty, but Xenon is the exception. He is easily able to be delicate and calm, but others still aren't willing to see what his actual limit is.

He takes two of his claws and gently parts the bird pokemon's beak. Force feeding a pokemon while it's asleep is much easier to do than otherwise, so he doesn't expect this operation to take long. He takes the glass vial and crushes it into the oricorio's mouth, letting the glass and nectar fall down it's throat.

"Iode, this goal here is a stress test. I didn't force the contents down it's throat, because I'm letting it breath the nectar and the glass in. It will change form, while at the same time sustaining significant damage to the trachea and lungs. If it cannot survive this, it won't survive anything else we put it through."

The skarmory watches intently, as the oricorio's color slowly transitions from red to a pale purple. In its sleep, it starts to violently cough and gag while the glass presumably tears through it's windpipe. Despite Xenon's best hopes, it continues choking for several minutes, before finally suffocating. He and Iode let it lay there for several moments, before naming it dead.

"Stress test unsuccessful," he says. "Give me some more targets."

"A few, actually. Ember of Team Gold is our top priority. Big body, and has a dragon's natural regeneration. Roselyn, a sylveon. She has a symbiote of some kind living inside her that restores even the worst of her injuries. I was thinking we extract it and put it in something bigger. Lastly, that living ghost I mentioned is nearby. Her name is Frost. You, Xenon, might get to operate on a living ghost."


	8. Chapter 8: Bird of Prey

Skarmory are, by nature, scavengers. To them, there is no better tactic than waiting for some unfortunate creature to make a journey that they will never finish across the badlands, then feasting when the time is right. The perfect time for a skarmory is when a pokemon hasn't quite died, but can't save itself with any kind of strength it has left. The feeling of eating a living creature is almost intoxicating to them.

That fact may remain true, but Iode is no scavenger. He likes to consider himself a hunter, a predator. While another skarmory might get bored with a carcass after it has died, no matter how much is left, Iode carefully plans how much he needs and stores the rest for later.

Of course, this prey isn't for eating. Even though a dragon this size could feed him for weeks, the power inside it is much more valuable then temporary relief from some physical sensation. Being alive doesn't mean being well fed. Xenon taught him that barely surviving reminds one that they're still alive, and to appreciate it.

This… Ember could never know that. His physique is strong and healthy, like a weakling. That is why it was easy to capture him. All it took was a specially made sedative that could knock him out several times over. However, Xenon is smart. He was able to create a powerful sedative with no unwanted side effects. No one wants damaged goods.

Strange thing is, outside of Ember there are two targets. This little camp was easy enough to find, so he expected it to be over quickly. However, the second target is nowhere to be found. The word is that Frost of Team Fade is a prisoner of Team Gold. Why wouldn't she be somewhere out in the open, where Mr. Money could keep an eye on her. Then again, he doesn't seem to be around either, so he might've taken her somewhere.

Iode won't risk losing Ember, so he'll take this victory for now. There's still plenty of targets around, and he plans to take advantage of that. It's rare for this many pokemon with organ regeneration to be in the same vicinity.

Who's next then? Well, other than Ember and Frost, Roselyn is the only one left. That one's risky. A scout spotted her with Team Ruin, and though he doesn't like to mention it, Iode knows that even Xenon is afraid of the Relic Master. In fact, he doesn't know of a single pokemon who isn't. Sepullen is bad news, even to powerful pokemon like Xenon or Vanish the Witch. Team Fade should be thankful they were captured by Team Gold and not Ruin. That said, this won't be easy. He'll need a diversion. No, Sepullen is clever. Nothing subtle would get past him. Something big will do the trick.

 **Southern Twisted Craigs (Venomitus)**

It seems odd, stopping and resting like this. When Sepullen and I travel, we tend to go straight to our destinations without ever really stopping to check whether or not the sun is up. To Sepullen or I, who's biologies can be simplified as a 'soul in a vessel', sleep and other bodily functions become meaningless. The Relic Master would even go so far as to say that living on its own is a hindrance that can easily be overcome by dying. Though it is helpful, I don't agree with him in that respect.

Regardless, it's because some of our companions are living that we have to put our journey on a temporary halt until they regain enough energy to move forward. Meanwhile, Blind and I watch in amusement at Sepullen's futile attempts to entertain himself. For now, he's settled on watching Koncordia hunt, but there's only so many times you can watch a pokemon tear viciously away at any rock or shadow that vaguely resembles a pokemon.

Though I wouldn't tell her, it's kind of heartbreaking to watch. There's scarcely any wild pokemon in Archaea. The most abundant sources of food are found within dungeons, but a mystery dungeon hasn't been discovered in the Twisted Craigs or surrounding areas yet. Even though I know neither Blind nor Sepullen will care, Koncordia might die if she doesn't find something to eat.

I still ponder the reason that Sepullen chose to bring them with us. His passion is relics, or at least the power within them. It's rare that he takes an interest in anything living, even as more of an object than a pokemon. I suppose it's easier for him that way. After all, you have to take into account the feelings and health of a pokemon, but an object's only requirement is that it must be handled delicately, and even that's negligible.

I'm usually adequate about predicting his thoughts, and finding the reasons behind not just his, but other pokemon's motivations. He's the one who taught me how to do that, but even still, I can't see what interest he has in an underfed sylveon, and her relatively... ordinary twin.

As it happens, the more I contemplate, the more I see the oddities between the two pokemon. Koncordia and Rose seem to know each other quite well, so they must have been travelling together for an extended period of time before we came along. So why then, would Koncordia be consistently on the brink of starvation, and yet Rose seems perfectly healthy. In our normal travelling party, Rook is the only one who needs to eat, but with the twin sylveon I assume that any food caught or found would be distributed between the two of them.

What's even more astonishing is that when we tried to offer either of them food, they both refused. Although Branna was more than jovial when Sepullen offered her some perfect apples and water. Whatever the case, my interest in the our guests might be just as abundant as Sepullen's.

"Hmm…" Sepullen says. "She's returning, but with nothing. An unfortunate failure, but an easily predictable one."

"Too bad she doesn't want any of the food you offered," Blind comments.

"Yes, a fact that contributes even more to the ongoing mystery, but how will I solve that mystery if she's dead? I may have to force feed her soon…"

"You think she wants a drink?" Blind asks as she pops open another bottle of Ambrosia.

"I don't think that would do much for her, considering she may be unable to die."

"Bummer," she says. "No drinks, no death. Immortality's kinda stupid, isn't it?"

"As an immortal who is unable to drink, I find that insulting."

If it were earlier in our lifetimes, I would assume Sepullen is joking. Though, I'm not entirely sure he's not joking either. It's hard for me to imagine him with a sense of humor regardless.

Out here where there's little to no pokemon, it's not that hard to hear the soft padding of Koncordia's footsteps. Though, it appears something's wrong. Her footsteps are short and quick, like she's panicking.

"Uh, guys?" She says. "There wasn't any pokemon out there."

Blind grins at her and shakes her head.

"Well, we coulda told you that one. Here, Mr. Relic Master said it wouldn't help much, but it couldn't hurt to try."

She offers the rest of her Ambrosia to Koncordia, but the sylveon shakes her head.

"No, no, no. I mean there wasn't any, but now there is. Lots of 'em too."

"She's correct," Sepullen says. "A little under a hundred skarmory are approaching from the north west."

In the distance, I can barely make out the silver reflections of the swarm in the moonlight. From that far away, it's hard to differentiate them from the stars in the sky. Not wasting a moment, Sepullen's eyes light up. A holographic barrier materializes around each one of us like a bubble. I remember that this isn't a pokemon's move, but a magical spell that Sepullen made on his own with the purpose of protecting against all kinds of energy. I also remember to leave him to whatever he's planning, considering he can crush any one of us with the spell if he chooses to.

"There are ninety-three, Venomitus. Please remind me what ninety-three minus fifty-one is."

So this is it, then. Without even knowing if they're hostile, he's going to obliterate half of them out of the sky. It's not unlike him to show off, but it still makes me want to crack his little clay skull open. Sometimes I wonder why I even stick around, but I always remind myself that I will wake him up someday. Whether out of friendship or pride is another affair all on it's own.

"Venomitus! As my companion, it's your responsibility to know what I'm thinking. It's as I said before, use your natural genius as a sableye to observe every situation. Haste and assumption are the most treacherous mistakes you can make in any conflict. The greatest weakness is the inability to think."

So he somehow does know they're hostile, and yet his telepathy only reaches a certain distance. So then, what does he know that I don't? It's not uncommon for skarmory to travel in large numbers, and they do inhabit deserts more than anywhere else. However, Southern Twisted Craigs is on a small peninsula in the south of Archaea, so that means that to the north west is… Tragic Sound and Isla Delirium.

Pokemon are suspicious of the island because of some rumors and urban legends, but Sepullen and I know that the nidoking Xenon runs his operation there. Come to think of it, he uses the mob of skarmory led by Iode as an army of some sort.

"Alright, Sepullen. If I recall, ninety-three minus fifty-one is forty-two. If you're wrong about this…"

Every magical spell has an entity limit that varies depending on how powerful the user is. Fifty-one must be the limit of Sepullen's spell, or at least the limit while his focus is divided between us and the enemy. I can see the skarmory a little better than I could before, but I still can't count them out to ninety-three like Sepullen. Even though I can see them better, somehow they blend in with the stars even more then they did before.

That is, before several supernovas move across the horizon in a chain reaction that lights up the sky. The explosions are so bright that for a few seconds the sun may as well be burning bright at midday. Sepullen turns to look back at Blind and I.

"You doubt too often, Venomitus. That's the second greatest weakness. What good is it to think if you are unable to act with speed and efficiency? Besides, I am never wrong."

So he says, but predictions and statistics are an entirely different affair than principle and morality. It's not always about the most effective method. Sometimes it's about the method with the fewest consequences. In the unlikely event that the swarm consists of innocent desert skarmory, Sepullen wouldn't think twice. To him, it would be a necessary precaution. Me? I would mourn in silence. Some lives are useless, but that's not for anyone to judge at a moment's notice. One must observe before judging. In a weird way, it was him who taught me that, but not in this context.

"Focus, Venomitus. I haven't eliminated all of them. It's a simple task, really; think and act simultaneously without flaw. You talk to me as if you are my equal, but can you prove that to me?"

Honestly, I don't believe I can prove myself to someone who expects nothing less than perfection. How does one become perfect? What even is perfection? In Sepullen's eyes, perfection is a very basic concept; complete objectives with quickness and efficiency. From my perspective, it should be about character. It should just be in a pokemon's nature to always do the right thing.

Neither perspectives can exist, unfortunately. To a point, Sepullen and I are the antithesis of one another's ideals. I don't believe that we will ever come to an agreement. A minimum, I'm glad he understands he can't convince me to do anything by force. On the other hand, with that understanding comes his endless lectures and criticisms.

"Should I wake up Rose and the weird green snake?" Koncordia asks.

"Be mindful, fiend. She's a serperior. I suspect you may be invulnerable, but if you so much as graze her scales with a single atom of your unsightly being, I will rip your ribbons from you and feed them to you as the 'living flesh' you so desperately crave."

"Sheesh. I was just asking, but okay."

"My advice," Blind says. "Don't ask stupid questions. It makes you look… well stupid. You just saw the guy obliterate half the problem. What makes you think we need help from a kid and the miss?"

"Enough bickering amongst yourselves, the enemy approaches," Rook says.

"Don't command me, Rook. I'm well aware," Sepullen snaps.

"Not a command, Relic Master," he says. "A recommendation for your safety is all."

"Your devotion is very poisonous, you know," I comment.

"Quiet, cretin."

If we couldn't see the moonlight refracting off their wings, we might've never noticed the skarmory flying silently above us. True to their nature, they circle the sky around us, waiting for the perfect moment to strike. With Sepullen's barrier still surrounding us, there's not much they can do at the moment. However, if they knew Sepullen was here already, they've likely accounted for him.

What can you do against a barrier the cancels out all other types of energy? Well the only way I can think of is if the energy output of the barrier was matched, canceling out both forces involved. I suppose that means we're stuck here. After all, the only pokemon I can think of that have magic powerful enough to cancel out Sepullen's are Frost and Vanish, and according Sepullen, they're in the custody of Team Gold.

"Don't underestimate them, Venomitus. They didn't come all this way, just to be stopped by a street magicians trick," Sepullen says.

"Indeed, but we aren't prepared for whatever they have in store."

In a flash of electricity, a larger skarmory slams down from the sky, causing a small crater. Sepullen immediately locks eyes with him, anticipating his every possible move. The skarmory does the same, but with a look of curiosity at the energy barrier.

"We are prepared, Venomitus. Aside from me, you've never lost to anyone. Tell me, why should that change?"

I'm a ghost. It's fairly difficult to lose when your wounds heal, and all pain is very minor. In extreme cases, not being able to die is a factor.

"Hmm," the skarmory starts. "You all are very confident in yourselves, aren't you? Well, most of you are dead, so you must've slipped up somewhere along the way…"

He steps closer to us, ruffling his bright silver feathers as he does so. A feather releases itself from his wing. At first it falls lightly toward the ground, then fires toward Sepullen at a speed faster than I can pick up on. As expected, it shatters when it hits the barrier.

"But, that's none of my business. I just wanted to take a closer look at all of you while you're still alive, so to speak. Well, that's enough of that. It would be impolite of me not to tell you your killer's name, so let me introduce myself. I am Iode, third member of Team Gamma. Now, your weakness is sickening. Let's end this so I don't have to look at any of you anymore."

His eyes glow a shade of deep blue as he crackles with electricity. The heat radiating from him is enough to to turn the stray patches of sand around him to glass. The sparkle from the little fragments is enough to make me salivate.

"Consumption is unnecesary, Venomitus. Focus," Sepullen commands.

It suddenly comes to my attention that Iode is emitting blue electricity rather than yellow. Why is that? Only certain legendaries can manipulate lightning to my knowledge. Unless it's…

"Sepullen-"

"I saw his eyes already, Venomitus."

"Eyes?" I ask

There's nothing particularly special about his eyes. They're glowing the same shade of blue as his electricity, but it's not uncommon for a pokemon's eyes to glow the color of their energy. Sepullen's eyes are orange, because his psychic abilities are orange. Unless… it's the other way around. Psychic energy is purple normally, but Sepullen's moves have magic alongside his normal energy. I never noticed before, but I suppose that might be a way to identify pokemon that are born with magic. Of course, I've always known Sepullen uses magic. The only other pokemon I know that does is Vanish, and her eyes are burnt black.

Unfortunately, I don't know of a way to gauge magical prowess, so Iode's power is still unknown to us. That's why I think it's best that we attack him now rather than later. White energy emits from my claws until they extend to almost twice the length they were. Seeing my preparation, Blind does the same.

I take a step forward, but my foot doesn't even touch the ground before I'm enveloped in Sepullen's psychic hold. He gives me a quick glance, but doesn't break his gaze from Iode. The skarmory shakes his head.

"I know what you're doing, Master of Relics. You're waiting very patiently to see if I might break your little barrier. I apologize, but that's not happening. You move first, or I'll have to call stalemate for now."

Sepullen throws Blind and I forward, opening the barrier for only a split second to let us through. In that split second, Iode disappears with sonic boom. The shockwave from the sound alone is enough to completely reverse my trajectory through the air. Sepullen forms a second barrier around the two of us as we land quite a distance away from he, Koncordia, and Rook.

I land on my feet despite being thrown through the air at an odd angle. I see Branna and Rose still sleeping soundly just behind Rook, but I also notice Iode inside the barrier with he, Koncordia, and Sepullen. The claydol doesn't react fast enough to Iode's steel wing when he rushes forward with an uppercut, but by the time he reaches Sepullen, Rook is already standing between them with an iron defense prepared.

Sparks fly when steel meets iron charing some of Koncordia's fur and nearly setting Branna on fire. Not wasting a second, Iode bolts past Rook and toward Sepullen again in a flash of lightning. To his surprise, Sepullen teleports directly in front of him and meets his drill peck with a point blank Solar Beam.

The attack sends Iode skidding across the dirt and slamming against the edge of the barrier. From my vantage point, I notice both barriers flicker and fluctuate. It doesn't happen again for a moment, but then they start to blink in and out of existence for several seconds at a time.

Iode ruffles his feathers and says, "It seems you're exhausted. Now, let me make you afraid."

"Afraid?" Sepullen scoffs. "What within your insignificant mind makes you think I would be afraid of you?"

"Your kind deal with the dead, Sepullen. You prey on the dead and the living alike, taking advantage of them, but I? I cast both of them aside like carcasses, because I don't need them. I know your kind, Sepullen. I know that what you fear most, is the knowledge that after I'm finished with you, I won't even use you as nesting material. You will be useless, lost to time, not even fit to be a desert skarmory's appetizer."

Close, but no. There is only one thing Sepullen is afraid of, and I've buried that knowledge deep below the darkest reaches of my memory. So far in fact, that not even Emerald, the most powerful psychic in Archaea, could ever extract it from me. If it were a lock box, the only key I suppose could open it is if Sepullen himself asked me in the politest manner I can think of, and I think he and I know that at this point, that scenario is beyond unfathomable.

"Oh, is that what you think?" Sepullen asks. "You want to tell me what I'm afraid of, and yet as we stand here, I've already deduced your greatest fear."

"Have you now?"

"In every word, movement, or sound you make, you put forth extra effort to sound and act powerful. It's simple, you are afraid of weakness. In your frailty, in your sickness, you believe that you have somehow gained strength beyond that of the regularity. Awaken to the truth, you are dying."

"Wh-what?" Iode falters.

"Have you become numb to your senses?" Sepullen asks, sounding genuinely surprised. "You are starving to death."

"Heh, dumbass," I hear Blind say as she pops the quark on a bottle of Ambrosia.

Iode's previously bold posture is now low slouch, to the point of almost touching the ground. He's not looking at Sepullen, rather his head hangs low and somber. It's almost as if he forgot any of us are here entirely.

"Xenon told me… that deprivation would condition me, make me stronger… but is it just killing me?"

"Absolutely incredible," Sepullen says. "Of course it's killing you. Just look at you, worthless, ugly freak. It defies all logic that you've managed to survive this long."

Iode takes one last look at the enemy in front of him and says, "Make less than cadavers out of them all," then disappears in a bolt of lightning.

As if their very existence was devoted to being ravenous, the swarm of skarmory above us tears down from the sky in a very disorderly fashion. Some move too eagerly for their own speed and knock their own companions out of the sky, and others converge on us too closely together and lose control mid flight.

"Sepullen, can you use the Supernova?" I ask.

"I've exhausted my energy, but remember your immortality. Concern yourself with protecting the living among us."

The five of us position ourselves around Branna and Rose, preparing to meet the swarm. As the foremost of them come within spitting distance of us, a powerful stream of electricity chains quite easily of of each of the skarmory's bodies until the hoard of them resemble a very angry thundercloud. It isn't blue like Iode's lightning, but yellow like a typical electric-type attack. A few skarmory realize they're being assaulted and attempt to fly in the opposite direction, but are immediately frozen in place with light blue… nevermeltice?

"Lovely evening, isn't? Well with all the moonlight, and clear skies and all that" a familliar voice purrs. "A shame all these pesky birds had to go and muck it up for everyone else."

"You're telling me! It was just a quiet night that I was actually enjoying for the first time in forever, but NO! Nothing ever wants to just stay put for a single millisecond, and let me rest in damned peace," a less familiar voice rants.

"Money," Sepullen says, glaring in the direction of the persian.

"Oh Relic Master. Why must you sound so contemptuous every time we meet?" Mr. Money asks.

"Because I find you utterly revolting and in my way."

"Now that's not very nice of you," the persian mocks.

"Curious, why is Frost with you here?" Sepullen asks.

He looks back at the froslass, who hovers behind him with her arms folded. She glares at Sepullen, then wanders over to where Branna lay on the ground.

"Oh, she's my prisoner."

Sepullen gives him a look.

"She doesn't appear very… imprisoned," he says.

"I don't mean to interrupt this reunion of you guy's," Koncordia says. " I'm sure you're best pals, but where is Rose?"

Looking around, she appears to be right. Rose is no longer in her resting place on the ground next to Branna. I never really questioned why the skarmory attacked us in the first place, but I can't help but to assume that this was their plan, to capture at least one of us. How could they have taken her without Sepullen or I noticing?


	9. Chapter 9: Two Pieces of a Broken Puzzle

**Southern Twisted Craigs (Branna)**

" _...doesn't believe I'm real._ "

" _Really?_ "

" _All in her head, she says._ "  
" _I don't blame her. You're no pokemon, that's for sure._ "

" _She's rude too. Complains about me when I'm in the same room._ "

" _She's actually being polite. She would never talk about someone behind their back._ "

" _Yeah well-_ "

" _Quiet, she's waking up_."

Oh… my head. It's still night, what am I doing awake like this? Those voices, I know them both very well. Who are they, and why won't they let me sleep. I'll just ignore them. Maybe they'll go away and… let me sleep.

I just can't. As much as my head is in pain and… that stupid ringing noise won't stop. Somebody take a rock and slam my skull into it please. I'd rather be in a coma then have to… gah! I just can't think straight. Curse whoever made this universe for making us grass-types so fragile to our environment.

" _Wow, that doesn't look like fun._ "

Lorem. I should have known it was you. Stupid bastard won't shut up any hour of the day apparently. But who's he talking to? I don't care right now. I need… sleep. Grass-types are drained of their energy while the sun's not out. If I stay awake too long, I could actually die.

"Wake, Branna. You can't go back to sleep like this."

I slowly open my eyes. It's dark, so I can't see much, but I make out Lorem's figure standing over me. That wasn't his voice just now, though. This voice is much harsher then Lorem's, but quieter and calmer. It's more familiar to me then his too. That is… because Lorem is a monster, but this voice was once my friend.

"Frost… is that you?" I say in a quiet voice. I lift my head off the ground and take a good look at my surroundings. An endless desert canyon extends as far as I can see in every direction. I vaguely see the ocean some five or six kilometers away, but other than that, the night is deathly silent and devoid of life outside myself, and the ones that woke me up. Even then, you can barely call them life.

"Where did everyone go?" I ask.

Frost hovers in front of me, facing away at the night sky. She almost appears to be in a kind of trance, just staring at the moon, unmoving, unblinking. She doesn't seem to have heard me, but I don't want to interrupt whatever it is she's thinking about. The last we talked, she was in a great deal of stress, but here? She appears to be at peace. Very content with the silence and emptiness of the biome around us.

The wind doesn't blow, there's no trees for things to fall off of, and there's no pokemon here to disturb her. So I just sit in silence, still tired, but finally used to the feeling of being awake. It takes me a second to realize that Lorem is gone, at which I take a deep breath.

After around half an hour, Frost finally looks down at the ground. She sits in silence for a few seconds, before turning around. Like last time, she can't bring herself to look me in the eye, but she's calmer then she was.

"So…" She starts. "You must have very bad eyesight."

I look at her the same way I would if she grew legs suddenly and ran away. She never was good at conversation, and to be honest neither have I, but I think I can do better then _that._ Whatever the case, I'll bite.

"Why do you say that?" I ask.

"Look around you. You've asked where everyone is, but not why the ground is littered with corpses of dead birds."

I sigh.

"You're absolutely right, then. I can barely see clearly more than a few meters in front of me."

At the moment, the moon is shrouded by a dark cloud, so there's barely any light to begin with. A rain cloud? It's about time something interesting happened out here. At least with the rain I'll be able to last a bit longer without sunlight.

"Hey… you're not going to… try to kill me again are you?" I ask.

"No, I suppose not," she says. "Mr. Money left me here to watch over you while they go rescue a little runt. He thinks I can be redeemed, so I think I'll give it a go."

I give her a friendly smile.

"If you're making a genuine effort, then… I'm happy for you."

She stares at nothing. I don't think I exist in whatever world she's seeing at the moment. She's blank, devoid of all emotion or reaction to what I said. The gravity of some longing to be somewhere other than here, or rather somewhere in another world entirely bares down on me from her being. The only reason I recognize this feeling is because, well... I want to go back to sleep, but she's feeling that on another scale. Almost like, she wants to sleep forever.

"Please… stop doing that," she says. "Every time you… say something nice like that, I…"

She barely says anything before tears stream from her eyes. Her expression doesn't change, rather her eyes shift frantically in every direction, not focusing on anything for more than half a second. Though most of her face is hidden behind her mask, I can still feel the magnitude of the whirlpool of emotions that have likely been built up over several years being released from her at once.

I hesitate, not knowing if comforting her or saying anything would make anything better. She may need to be left alone, but at the same time she may need me to be a friend at the very least. I know what I _want_ to do, but I don't know if that would be selfish. After I disbanded our team years ago, I never expected her to leave like she did. I would do anything to have her back at this point.

"Frost-"

"Don't, please," she says. "I don't really understand… what I feel. For a long time now… I've wanted to die for real. At the same time… I feel like I have to stay, like I have something to do, or… some place to go, or someone to meet."

"Then stick around," I say.

Finally, she looks me in the eyes. She still crying, but mostly she looks baffled.

"...What?"

I come close enough to her that she could reach her arm out and touch me if she wanted to. She doesn't move, instead she just keeps her gaze fixed on me.

"You're a ghost, but you can still live life in a way. Just now, when you were lost in the sky, I saw nothing but serenity. It's almost like… you enjoy the world, but not the people in it. Tell me I'm wrong."

She takes a deep breath. Closing her eyes, she takes several more deep breaths. With I final one, she opens her eyes again.

"That's not entirely true," she starts. "I don't hate everyone. Vanish, despite her shortcomings, has always been good to me. Mr. Money and his team have always been our rivals yet… he and Rodium especially are good souls."  
She pauses. Staring at me a while longer she says, "And even after everything, you still care what happens to me. Blind always says that becoming a ghost means you've lived a worthwhile life, so I suppose that means I'm worth something to you."

I nod in agreement.

"They say a ghost is only kept alive by the good memories of a living pokemon, and Frost I don't think I have a single bad memory of you. So stick around, join me if you want."

"I'm afraid that's not possible. I'm technically a prisoner of Team Gold."

"Then I'll talk to him after he… Oh right! Where is everyone?" I ask.

Without warning, Frost bursts into a fit of laughter. Her cackle immediately breaks the near silence of the valley. A few drops of rain fall from the sky and from there, it quickly turns into a full downpour. The moon is now completely blocked by storm clouds and other than a flash of lightning every few seconds, it's completely dark.

"I don't understand you sometimes, Branna," she says, still laughing. " Ember and one of the sylveon that was with you were taken by one of the lucky ones that wasn't turned into a corpse."

The birds? Wait, I must've missed a fight of some sort. If they were taken, I can't just sit here while everyone else is out risking their lives. With a quick flick of my tongue, I pick up on their scent. They went north east, toward the Tragic Sound. If I remember correctly, it barely carves the land into an island or something like that.

Following the direction of the smell, I prepare to burrow into the ground. I dig into the ground head first, but half way under, something restricts me by the tail. Soon after, I feel myself being dragged back above ground. Finally, I'm lifted to Frost's eye level. She looks at me disapprovingly, but not seriously.

"Really? The sun's not out, and you're barely awake," she says. "Besides, I think the Relic Master and Mr. Money can handle themselves. The rest of them are just along for the ride."

"But, I can't just sit here and do nothing!" I protest.

"That's exactly what you're going to do," she says firmly. "I was told to watch over you, so that's the end of it."

She gently sets me on the ground and crosses her arms. The two of us look at each other seriously, but can barely contain our laughter. I knew she couldn't be serious. Frost has never done what she's told. Even back when we were on a team together, we almost made her team leader with how stubborn she is.

"Who am I kidding," she says. "Now that you know they're in danger, you'll never go back to sleep will you? Oh well. You do realize that most of them can't die, right?"

I know Venomitus and Blind are ghosts, and Sepullen probably has some weird relicy thing making him immortal, but that doesn't change the fact that I don't know what's going to happen to Rose and Ember, and I assume they don't either. They'll probably need all the help they can get, considering all the nasty things I've seen since I came to this continent.

"Everyone has limits, Frost. I don't know 'bout you, but I'm not just going to sit around and see what theirs are," I say. "And, in all honesty I'd like to see what mine are."

"Won't argue with you there. I will tell you, don't die just yet. I'm still trying to find purpose in my undeath, but your life has purpose too."

She pauses, then says, "Remember that for me, will you?"

 **Bridge of Bone, Tragic Sound**

"Oh boy," I say, looking down below me at the black abyss of water that reflects the night sky. Though, it doesn't reflect the stars very well, so it appears more like a void of infinite darkness. The ripples and waves that crash against the rocks don't help anything either, appearing more like tears in spacetime rather than waves.

"It was you who wanted to come here, Branna," Frost says. "Don't tell me you came all the way here to get scared off by some ominous scenery."

Staring forward, I inch my way onto the bridge. It doesn't help that the bridge is made entirely of brittle bone of pokemon who have obviously been dead for a very long time. The structure of the bridge probably held better a long time ago, but I feel like if I make a wrong move, I'll fall through if don't take the whole bridge with me.

Frost can fly, so I guess she's just here to give me the best pep talk she possibly can. I feel like she's lived with Team Fade for so long, that she doesn't actually remember how to be even a little tactful. Though, I believe she's trying hard, so I'll give her credit where it's due. I know that a person can't change in a day, so I'll have to get used to it for the time being.

"Remind me again why you can't just fly me to the other side?" I ask.

"Please quit asking. I said you won't like the answer."

"Come on, Frost. If I'm going to suffer through this, I at least want to know why," I argue.

She flies closer to the edge of the bridge and pokes a strut. It's made from some pokemon's wing bone. Even with her gentle touch, the thing breaks off and falls into the blackness below. Frost recoils slightly and looks at me.

"Fine," she sighs. "But you can't flip when I tell you."

"Just say it. You can't make me more agitated than I already am."

She takes a deep breath, then says, "Branna, you are extraordinarily heavy. You could crush me if you wanted to."

"I just might at this point," I mutter.

"Hey! You said you wouldn't be bothered by it."

"No, I said I couldn't get any madder, there's a difference."

I notice a sly smile on her face as she lowers herself to the bridge and grabs ahold of the edge. She stares at me all while she pulls the bridge outward and lets go. In a frenzy, I coil myself into a knot and close my eyes as the bridge creaks from side to side. My heart pounds when I realize that the floor beneath me is nearly at its breaking point.

"Frost, help," I manage to say very quietly.

I don't dare to move even a few millimeters, fearing for the worst. Frost on the other hand laughs hysterically at the whole situation. For a second, I forget that I'm in danger and glare at her intensely.

" _For I hold the scale of death within my very soul, those who try to take it will receive precisely what they came for_ ," Frost recites with a grin.

"Quit being dramatic and- Wait is that Nocturan?" I ask.

"Yeah, I've memorized every line from The Things That Make Heaven Quake," she says, obviously very proud of herself.

"Don't be so pretentious, that entire book is about looking out for number one."

"Well," she starts. "Till today I was only looking out for myself, but now I'm looking after you."

"I can look after myself, thank you."

" _In essence, the immortals are their own masters. Some mortals extend their hands to them for help, but I believe the appropriate action is to kneel._ "

"So?" I ask.

"I'm an immortal," she says with a grin. "Nocturan says mortals kneel to immortals."

"Nocturan's an idiot, Frost. Just… help, please."

I hold my breath as the bones beneath me creak ever so slightly. Even Frost flies below me in a panic. She puts her hand on the bridge and freezes the area that my weight is mostly on. This seems to reinforce it well enough, so I let out a sigh of relief.

"Now, I can-"

 _Crack!_

I feel a sudden rush of weightlessness, followed by the realization of blackness coming closer every second. My first reaction is the hilarity the Frost is actually being crushed beneath me, but is quickly replaced by the feeling of dread that comes with falling through the air toward a river that may or may not have rocks beneath it.

I never find out, as I faint from the surprising coldness of the water itself. I vaguely hear Frost yelling my name, but I'm not worried. After all, my life has purpose. I can't die here when I have so many things left to do, places to go, people to meet.


	10. Chapter 10: The Living Sickness

**So, the last two chapters have been more dialogue heavy than I would've liked. If anyone has any tips to prevent that kind of thing, let me know. Also, as always OC's are appreciated. So far most of the character's are either mine or RodiumTech's, so seeing someone else's creativity would be great.**

 **Anyways, this is the tenth chapter and so far I'm having a lot of fun. If anyone does decide to PM me or leave a review, let me know what you think of Iode and Xenon as villains. Otherwise, I hope all of you are enjoying the story so far.**

 **-V. Locke**

 **July 14, 2032, Isla Delirium (Branna)**

"Sickly, sickly, living thing. Poor thing, you are," a voice that, as I understand it, probably comes from a liquid-based creature. It's raspy, yet it sounds like whoever it belongs to is trying to whisper at me from just below the surface of a very shallow pond. Small, sharp legs click across the ground toward me in a series of swift taps. Corphish, or maybe krabby?

"Isn't that right Barium? She is sick, oh yes, very sick."

Once again, I'm barely conscious, but this time around I feel well rested. I can't move though, which is weird. The last thing I remember is falling into the river with Frost, but I would expect to wake up on a beach or cave. At this point, I can't actually tell where I am. I don't feel cold or warm, or very much of anything.

I can't even feel if I'm still under water or laying down on the floor of someone's house. I don't think it really matters at this point. There's bigger issues at the moment, like where is Frost? Who is it that keeps calling me sick. I start to think that there might actually be something wrong with me, till they say…

"Let us cleanse you of this mortal thing, this vessel."

If I could, I would probably start squirming or twist and turn to try and get as far away from this pokemon as possible, but as it stands I can't move or even see. I can only hear this monster's voice, and smell a very earthy aroma comparable to bark, yet has a certain spice to it.

The scent itself reminds me of a few places I've been recently. It was on Captain Dumpster's ship when we were on the hull deck. The dragalge Sinista smelled like it just before… Vanish. It was in Blind's Tavern and has lingered on her since we started travelling together, but for the life of me I can't remember what the smell is.

 _Pop!_

I hear the sound of a quark coming off a bottle and landing somewhere nearby. Immediately, feeling of _something_ flows throughout my body. At first, it's taste. The one time in my entire life that I'd drinken alcohol, I'd become so sick that I had to sleep for several days to even recover from the initial effects, never mind the fact that everything I tried to eat very painfully ejected itself from my system.

Needless to say, that feeling stuck with me, because it's one of the few feelings I can say absolutely sucked. That's why I instantly recognize the tinge of alcohol pouring smoothly through my throat. For a guy who keeps talking about how sick I am, it's like he's trying to make me comatose. There is a reason that most grass or bug-types don't usually drink.

The feeling that follows, is also something I will never forget. Starting off, it's like the heat of eating a tomato berry when you eat the whole thing all at once, except it's in your entire body and about ten thousand times hotter. I wouldn't be surprised if the pokemon had actually set me on fire.

I would scream if I could, writhe if I could move, but I can't do anything. I can do nothing to relieve myself, nor react. On realizing that fact, I start to understand Frost's feeling of wanting to die. Anything to end the pain, the endless burning, and the contradicting numbness on the outside. Anything to make it stop.

Wishful thinking, a concept I'm very familiar with. Coming to the continent to find my child, expecting it to be easy. Finding my long lost friend after all these years and thinking she's still be the same, ambitious adventurer. Thinking that, just maybe, my immediate situation can't get much worse.

I think of a stove, whose settings are set on a nice three to roast some apples or to dry out some seeds. Then, I think of the same stove being set to eleven, a temperature hot enough to burn the apples to their core and evaporate some petty miracle seeds. I think of myself as the apples or those seeds being roasted from the inside out, and then slowly disintegrating.

Not disintegrating in the sense that clay melts in heavy rain, or ice melts under the intensity of the sun. More accurately, a quicker version of the dissolution that happens to a flower when it wilts, decays, then eventually begins to rot.

In a quick second of clarity, I realize that I've been forced to ingest Ambrosia. While I knew it was poison, it didn't know how exactly it kills, but now I know. Whoever designed this stuff must've been an assassin who really loathed their target with only one goal in mind; minimum life, maximum suffering.

I expect that after time goes on, the pain might subside until I die. No. The pain only intensifies, even to the point where the surface of my skin is no longer numb, but instead boiling with the magnitude that the sun would if it had the sudden urge to take a day trip down to the planet.

"How boring this thing is, Barium. Don't you think? We will return once you're looking less living than pathetic."

They scuttle away, leaving me no longer thinking, only feeling. Somehow, the pain feels like it's something I've always felt, and so I'm no longer bothered by it. If this is how the rest of my life goes, then so be it. Why resist at all when, logically, there's nothing that I can do about it. I don't know how I got here in the first place, but I guess that's just the way things are sometimes.

Some of us mortal pokemon are just unlucky that way. In a way, it reminds me that somewhere in the universe Arceus, if she exists, rolled some sort of cosmic dice called chance. Chance and not fate, because there is no point to any of this. What would be the purpose of me coming all this way, only to be killed off in the most unsatisfying, unfulfilling way possible. That would be stupid.

I've always hated legendaries, but I guess that means this is just one more reason. They think just because they created the universe means they get to decide what happens to the people who live in it. We didn't ask to be created, did we?

"I told you I knew you'd give up, I just didn't think it would be so soon."

 _Wh-what?_

"Your mother would be very ashamed of you," Lorem mocks. "If she saw you now, she would be preparing your grave right next to your father's. _Beloved Father_ his would read. _Forsaken Daughter_ would be scratched below your name with the vigorosity of a mother who's only spawn wasted twenty-seven whole years of existence being a failure."

All pain, hopelessness, fear, and agony is quickly replaced with the sheer hatred of that stupid smile that's practically glued to his hace that I can't see, but I just know he's looking down at me with. Of all the things, it had to be him. My mind couldn't have wandered to _anything_ else before I die.

Or maybe I am dead and my eternal hellhole is listening to him ridicule me infinitely. Apparently I wasn't important enough to anyone to even be reincarnated as a ghost. An entire lifetime of making friends, giving advice, and trying to be as pleasant as possible for nothing. Well ain't that a slap in the face.

"Relax, you idiot. You're not dead," Lorem says. "Then again, you're still dying. Oh, that doesn't look pleasant at all."

I can barely focus on what he's saying, or anything that's happening anymore. At this point, my breathing has become short and quick, but is slowing down rapidly. Mostly, the reason I can't really hear Lorem's voice that well is because of my own, irregular heart beat. It pumps steadily, but not in rhythm with the flow of my blood. Oh… what a day.

"Ambrosia is made from fermented ginseng and persim berries, but… what else?" he thinks aloud. "Gastly are common around here, but mareanie is better assumption. Hmm…"

He's quiet for a moment, and other than my internal noises and the sound of glass containers clinking together, I don't hear anything else. He paces back and forth, and occasionally makes more thinking noises like 'hmm' and 'ah'.

"Sitrus!" he exclaims. "Sitrus berries counteract the effects of the burning, but not the dying part. The poison itself has no cure that I know, but… what if I could postpone the death until I found one?"

What is he…?

"Alright, not to worry, but this is going to be extremely uncomfortable."

I hear a series of crushing, squishing, and grunting from Lorem. The sound of a glass rod hitting the edge of a glass container of some sort rings in my head. Normally, little noises don't bother me that much, but right now it makes me want to curl up comfortably on top of the razer edge of an electric paper shredder.

Even through the immense pain, I feel the tiny prick of a syringe penetrating my skin. The liquid that comes through can barely be called that. It's thick and slimy, almost the same kind of mushy texture of the pudding I make back home. Even thinking about food for a moment makes me forget all my other sensations in favor of the one familiar, day-to-day feeling of hunger.

Caramel apples and dried miracle seeds are some of my favorites. Especially when I roll the apples in caramel only after spreading rice and pecha juice into the caramel. Ooh, and that one belue berry pie that the bros kecleon sell sometimes. The pure natural sweetness that bursts into your mouth all at once… so good.

"Now, you shouldn't die, but your body will be… Branna, are you salivating?"

Whatever was injected into me is moving like a living thing throughout my organs. He was right, this is extremely uncomfortable. As the pain and burning subside, the are replaced by the feeling of something very alien to any pokemon I've come across. It's like goo, but moves around like it has a mind of its own.

"I've not cured you, not yet. I'm only blocking out the effects for now. Even that won't last forever, and it will kill you eventually," Lorem says. "Isn't science just fun?"

His mixture, or whatever it is, doesn't reach my lungs in time. So, with my breathing already slowed down to a few breaths every couple of seconds, it finally stops. I'm glad to say, the noise is gone. That is, the beating of my heart that made my head hurt so bad. It's stopped, all of it. The pain of living is gone, and I don't know how I feel about that. If anything, I feel nothing.

 **Harvest Chamber, Isla Delirium (Frost)**

I feel the adrenaline pumping through my blood. All I can think is that I don't know where I am, and I don't know where Branna is. I open my eyes, only to immediately be met face-to-face with the dark blue eyes of a hulking skarmory. He observes me smugly like some sort of rattata in a cage, but _his_ cage. I try to scream at him, but I only manage to choke and spit water everywhere.

"You know, your friend got off luckier than you did," he says. "She was very difficult to lift while she was trapping you under the river. Oh, and Caesium, how is she now?"

A parasect scuttles into the room through a massive metal door. Before coming in, he locks it from the outside, then closes it behind him. There is a very distinct size difference between the two of them. The skarmory dwarfs the parasect to the point where he might mistake him for one of those weird shoes they make for birds.

"If that thing, that serperior is, how she is, she's undoubtedly cleansed of her sickly form," he rasps.

"Hear that, my dear living ghost," he says. "Your friend is nothing more than a carcass. You… are nothing more than a tree with fruit ripe for the picking."

I move my hand, which is restrained against the wall by a metal brace. Did he not do any sort of research on who I am? I don't even have to use my nevermeltice to break both braces as I move forward and punch him in the throat. He seems surprised, but not as much as I expected him to be.

He stares at me, waiting to see what I might do next. I don't have time for this crap, so I disappear in a rush of wind and try to shove an ice shiv into the back of his neck, but to my surprise, he's even faster than I am and is able to turn around and use his wing as a shield, then bash me in the face with it. I don't stagger for very long, but long enough me to be pinned against the wall with the sharp edge of a Steel Wing.

"Did you really think I hadn't prepared for you? I'll tell you what. I've finally discovered a way to cause mutations the cells of healthy pokemon. I thought I'd give you lung cancer while you were asleep."

"Doubt it," I say while I slip under his wing and grab him by the neck. Decapitation has always been my favorite method of defeating an enemy, but his neck, like the rest of his body, is very difficult to get through. Channeling energy through my hand, I feel him get colder. The ice isn't forming as fast as I'd like against the metal, but it's getting there. My hand starts to numb at first, but I lose my grip after blue sparks start crackling against both of us.

"It's true. However, you won't die. Imagine that, you're simultaneously dead and alive at the same time. How useful."

In our moment of separation, I form several shards of ice in the air around me and aim them at him like a firing squad. Faster then even I can see, I launch them at him all at the same time. Surprisingly, they actually penetrate his thick hide. Some cut deep, others barely graze his side, but he definitely felt it.

"Nice try, but you'll never leave here. The only way to leave is by disarming the door with my lightning."

He stumbles backward and collapses to the ground. Blood dark enough to be ink pours out of his injuries, staining the already ugly floor made of some sort of spongy rock. He looks up at me with a ridiculous smug grin, then falls unconscious.

I turn toward the parasect, who the skarmory called Caesium earlier. He looks around for a way out, but I think he knows he's locked himself in here with me. I lower myself down to him, knowing he won't be able to move out of fear. After years of being part of a team that led an entire town with fear, I'm used to having that effect on people, yet everyone else I've come across tries to babble something stupid at me or talk there way out of what they have coming. Caesium isn't doing any of those things. He's paralyzed himself to the point where he's not saying anything.

This is actually a problem, because I've never been in this situation before. I know he's not going to talk, so there's no point in asking him about Branna or a way out of here. Strangling him will only make him more afraid of me, so that won't work either. Sometimes I wish pokemon would just give me what I want and stop acting like shivering and trembling is somehow going to save their life. I'm done with this useless crap, I'll make my own way out.

The huge, vault-like door has no handle or lever to open it from the inside, so at least I know the skarmory wasn't lying, but that's not a good thing. If he's not lying about that, then who's to say he's lying about Branna being… that, or the outlandish claim that he straight gave me cancer. That doesn't even make sense, but the fact that I don't know…

"Something give me some damn answers!" I scream, striking the door as hard as I can as I do so.

Before I even realize it, the door flies off its hinges and scrapes against the metal floor in the hallway behind it. I think the look on Caesium's face is about the same as mine. I didn't know I was strong enough to just punch the door open. To all those pokemon that say violence is never the answer, I say violence is _always_ the answer.

"Oh right, I'm supposed to be redeeming myself," I remind myself. "And Branna, you said it yourself, you're not going to die yet. You have so much left to do."

"Poor thing, that froslass. Yes Barium, I know," Caesium says to himself. "We were the ones who gave the serperior the healing, weren't we. Yes, we did. We cleansed her of the living sickness. Cured it with death, we did."

Not paying him any more attention, I fly off down the hall. The rock floor is quickly replaced by metal paneling, and the ceiling has visible pipes and gears making various noises. There's no signs of any kind, just rooms identical to the one I was in, but none of them with pokemon in them.

I soon reach a large room with various metal chambers resembling mini submarines, but with the same sort of vault doors that all the previous rooms had. Inside the chambers are different species of pokemon. Some native to Archaea, like skorupi or beldum, but also more exotic Pokemon like tropius or bagon. In one of the chambers is a pokemon I don't recognize, but the closest thing that comes to mind is banette.

At first, it walks back and forth muttering to itself. I can't tell if it's complaining or trying to recite a detailed plan. I'm about to continue on my why, but the pokemon notices me and taps on the glass.

"Oi, inlander. Mind lettin' me outta 'ere. I been stuck in 'ere for ages, an' I'd like ta stretch a limb or two. Aw bugger, I forgot my limbs don't stretch, bein' a ghost an' all that," he says.

"You sound like… a seafarer. Like, ugh, Captain Dumpster and his crew," I comment.

"Right-o, now stop yappin' an' help me out 'ere!"

I turn a large silver wheel on the bottom of the door. As I turn it, it becomes easier and easier to move, until I hear a rush of air as the chamber depressurizes. The door swings outward, and the pokemon immediately bumbles out like a baby sentret who's finally allowed to go outside their tiny grass patch for the first time.

"An' I'm no banette, ya dimwit. Don't tell me you never heard o' marshadow before?"

"I don't care what you are, I'm in a hurry! Follow me or don't, but I have somewhere to be."

Branna, I swear on my life if you're dead I'll bring you back to life and kill you again. What would Jude and Cryptia think if you died now?


	11. Chapter 11: Mortal Insignificance

**Endurance Chamber** , **Isla Delirium**

"Final examination of Caesium's endurance test," the nidoking begins. "Respiratory system; shut down. Heart rate; halted. Photosensitive skin; withering."

He picks a sample of browned skin from Branna and carefully places it into a small, clear container.

"Final notes; this specimen is not suitable to be the symbiotes host. Furthermore, she has no natural regenerative capabilities. However, an anomaly has been detected in her blood. A thick, ivory colloid. On closer examination, this colloid, which for our purposes shall be named Paleblood, seems to contain the necessary stem cells to cause regeneration… theoretically. Its effect is closer to incubation. In summary; she will be kept around for further study, but the state of her death remains to be seen."

He taps the edge of his voice recorder and sighs. Answers always seem to come in the form of more questions. He struck a goldmine when he found out that Frost had left her little protective veil in the ridge, but brought with her a host of interesting subjects. The salemence and sylveon are interesting for sure, but she is the only one he really cares about.

"A plethora of infinite, healthy organs. Archaea shall never go hungry again," he muses.

The symbiote will provide the same effect, if done right, but the amount of work it's taking to extract the thing from the sylveon and the projected amount of work it's going to take to put in something else is tiresome. Branna would have made for the perfect host, if she hadn't… well Xenon actually doesn't know if she's dead yet. In any case, she's a sentient being, but her organs are very similar to vegetation, making them perfect for flying-types that haven't yet adapted to eating meat.

Ember is the current candidate, seeing how all the endurance tests he's undergone so far have been perfectly successful. No, beyond successful. His body has taken Ambrosia and every other harsh method Xenon can think of and hasn't been damaged by any of them. So far, his liver and one of his lungs have been removed. Xenon estimates they'll regenerate within an hour or so.

"I'll deliver this victory to you myself," he says, clutching a satchel with Ember's liver in it over his back. " _'Because love dies if there's no one left to love'_ , and dearest Kala, I shall love you always."

 **Containment Chamber (Frost)**

"Oi? Ya listenin' to me or what?"

I almost wish I hadn't let that stupid thing- What was it, marshadow?- out of his contraption. Ever since he joined up with me, it's been non-stop talking about things that don't matter.

"If ya don't remember, I was talkin' about the mighty ship _Luminosity_ , that I'm the captain of by the way, once sailed so far up north, we crashed into a hidden island in the frozen northeast. Now I tell ya-"

I take a deep breath. All I need to do is find out where they took Branna, then I can ditch this pest. I didn't ditch Revenge to end up with his doppleganger with his personality multiplied by a hundred-billion. Arceus knows he's told me everything else about him, but his name.

"-Then I was like, _blam, blam, poomf._ Knocked 'em right back ta the forest where he came from, but all the sudden-"

How did I ever end up in this mess? What kind of choices led me to this particular moment? Not only do I have to worry about the possibility that the one person in the world who actually still cares about me is dead, but instead of worrying about it, I have to be angry about it, because he just won't-

"Shut up for one damned millisecond, please!" I scream.

He stops flying alongside me and drops to the ground in a puff of smoke. Before I can continue down the hallway, I feel his shadowy hand grab mine and pull me down. He only stares at me at first, with whatever emotion is halfway between annoyance and genuine hurt.

"Maybe it ain't the best way ta go about it," he says. "But you ain't hidin' nothin' from me. I know all your thoughts, what ya think o' me, and what you're goin' through."

He pulls me closer, and with a stern glare says, "But ya gotta calm down. You're bein' hasty 'an reckless. Movin' too fast. I been tryin' ta distract ya, but that ain't workin right. Let your mind move ya, not adrenaline."

He throws me back, then flies off with a present expectation that I follow him. I don't really care if he reads my mind all that much, Vanish always does it as a favor so I don't have to figure out how to say what I mean. It's the memories that bother me. Sepullen already wormed his way into my mind out of sheer habit, but I expect that from him. I shouldn't have to feel unsafe in my own mind just because another pokemon can't just ask a simple question, or accept the answer when it's no.

That's not the only thing he and Sepullen have in common either. I've heard Sepullen teaches his _tools_ to think and act with perfect composure and ridicules them harshly when they fail to meet his expectations. I wonder what kind of ego you have to have to expect pokemon not to worry about each other. I'm focused on the task at hand and nothing will get in my way. I don't need to be calm to do that.

"Adrenaline is a good motivator despite what you may think."

"Well, ya don't do much thinkin' when you're angry, now do ya?" he quips.

"I don't need to think, I just _do_ ," I say. " Wait, why am I even listening to you? Where are we even going?"

"If your friend is o' any interest to the boss man, she'll be in the endurance chamber where they... Aw. That's no good."

He comes to a sudden stop, then points his hand at the ground. Black smoke emits from his form and his eyes burn bright yellow. Steel pipes and various machinery melt around us as the general temperature of the room raises at an alarming rate. The heat is so intense already that, as an ice-type, I start to feel weak.

"Oi, sorry for that. This 'ere's the fastest way to get there," he reassures.

The smoke suddenly bursts into full on green and blue flames. The sudden heat wave rushes past me and singes my face mask and the ribbon around my waste. Our immediate surroundings at this point have been reduced to molten puddles of metal sludge.

With a final burst of heat, he releases the most intense Will-O-Wisp that I've seen from any pokemon from his hand at the ground. The fireball easily rips apart the metal floor and sends shrapnel flying in every direction. The marshadow doesn't seem worried about it that much. The metal shards fly right through him. On the other hand, I'm forced to endure as they pelt me at high speeds.

Looking closer, I see the explosion created a large uneven crater in the floor. The crater leads to a much larger room below. Without hesitation, he flies over and grabs onto me, then pulls me down to the room below.

"No life 'ere it seems, but that don't mean nothin'," He mutters to himself.

He's more forward then I'm used to, but even though I don't want to, I trust him. Does he trust me? That would be a first. Not even Vanish, Blind, or Revenge trusted me completely. Branna does, but I don't think that counts. She's very cynical at times, but I think even through that, she still believes in the best of everyone.

Inside the room, I notice several contraptions with different needle parts, containers, cells for holding pokemon with vents in them. It's on one of these contraptions that I recognize a quote written in a fancier font.

" _The actions of every mortal being reside in a state of equivalence, leading me to conclude that, on principle, they are all doomed to fail. Mortal actions are, without a doubt, pointless, but it's the will of the immortal that drive the universe. Their design is what drives the universe, for time is on their side,_ " I read aloud.

"That Nocturan fellow, eh? Well ain't 'e just ripe with drivel."

"You're immortal, why do you care?" I ask.

"I live to 'elp the mortal. If mortal actions are pointless, mine are as well."

He turns his attention to a large, tube-like container with a cylindrical lid that opens like a coffin. I follow after him as he flies over to it and undoes the latch. He looks inside before I do, but he recoils in shock as soon as he does. Inside… is Branna, but she's not the same as I last saw her. She's laying in a shallow pool of water, but that isn't helping her browning skin and the pale white… membrane or growth forming like mycelium along the remaining hydrated portions of it.

A feel as if my insides are going to collapse on themselves, but not from disgust. It doesn't take me long to realize that Branna's not breathing, nor is her heart beating. As the marshadow recollects himself, he examines her closely.

"Aye, that can't be normal," he says. "She should be dead, but… 'er thoughts are very clear. Somethin's keepin' 'er alive an' I can't tell what it is."

His eyes glow very faintly as he pushes deeper into her mind.

"There's somethin' else. Some creature, or mayhaps a memory named Lorem."

As soon as he says that name, I recall a conversation from the previous night.

" _So I guess that makes you a bad memory then, not like us ghosts?"_

" _That's right, I'm not dead, but I can't tell her what I am yet, and neither can you. At the moment, she calls me Lorem."_

" _Why?"_

" _Because I don't believe she can handle it yet. Oh, it's no fun for either of us, not at all. Despite my best efforts, she still doesn't believe I'm real."_

" _Really?"_

" _All in her head, she says."  
"I don't blame her. You're no pokemon, that's for sure."_

" _She's rude too. Complains about me when I'm in the same room."_

" _She's actually being polite. She would never talk about someone behind their back."_

" _Yeah well-"_

" _Quiet, she's waking up."_

"She's not waking up…" I say, seeming to forget the marshadow, or the machine, or anything else. The only thing that exists is Branna and myself. The two of us exist in some non-linear, timeless void, and she's slowly disappearing from it. It's as if I'm holding her soul in my hands, and it's slipping through like water or sand. It's only a matter of time before she disappears completely.

Just a day ago, I wanted her to die so I would be forgotten and could die with her, but for some reason, I feel compelled to not let that happen at any cost. For the first time that I can remember, something real has value to me. Even as she fades away, her value doesn't depreciate. In two different ways, she's the only one keeping me going in this world. From that connection comes an unfamiliar emotion that can only be represented to me by the image of her smile, and her deep, vermillion eyes.

In desperation, I try to recall all the magic Vanish ever taught to me. Anything and everything that I could possibly learn, I did. I was never able to use any of Vanish's fire magic, but I've learned more than just ice. It was me who created the invincibility veil that the mismagius loved so much, but that was something I created for all of Team Fade. Unfortunately, I didn't take the time to learn healing magic, which I regret now more than ever.

My thoughts are interrupted by the high pitched ringing of the marshadow invading my mind. Without realizing it, I must've put myself in a mental block and that's why him forcing his way in hurts so much.

"If you'll give this dear ol' saint your time, might I suggest reaching out to 'er somehow? Keeping in mind, ya dimwit, that if it's true she's the only one with good memories of ya, then she's still alive. You're still 'ere after all."

An idea comes to mind. While training under Vanish, I picked up one of her abilities that neither her or me thought was very useful. The Destiny Bond. Once used, the user and the target become synchronized. They are made absolutely aware of each others intentions, and are linked by death. I don't think that really matters, given that Branna and I are already linked by death. If she dies, I die, so I might as well give it a shot.

I close my eyes and extend my will out to her. Inevitably, the marshadow is forced out of my mind due to the disconnection from everything else. I hide nothing from Branna. My feeling and purity of intent are all known to her. Destiny Bond requires a proof of sorts. Whether out of hate, love, drive, or passion, it requires the user to surrender their mind and hide nothing.

So whether or not she's conscious of it, Branna now knows what I feel. She has also done something that no one in battle would ever do; she's accepted the link and surrendered her own mind to me. In return, I feel what she feels. She feels recurring abandonment from those around her. From the legendaries in the sky that may or may not exist, her parents, who for whatever reason couldn't make time for her when she was growing up, or… me, who left her in the rain after she disbanded Team Elemental.

"Hey…"

"Aurate, the name's Aurate," the marshadow says. "What's the matter?"

"She's not waking up, because she doesn't want to. She feels like… it's pointless."

"Well, do you believe that?" he asks. "Is your idol Nocturan right in sayin' that 'er actions are pointless? We can leave if that's it."

What if he is right? What if Branna's actions are just meaningless? That just means that she'll live, and die again some other time without accomplishing anything meaningful. By default, that would make my actions pointless. Aurate doesn't believe that, but do I?

I feel something else from her that I didn't notice before. It's almost like gluttony, but not like someone who has everything and want to consume more. Rather, it's like a starving child living off of half a meal a day who fantasizes about all the delicious food they wish to eat, despite being grateful for what they have.

I don't have to eat even though I'm a living ghost, but I keep different fruits in my treasure bag to snack on every once in a while. I pull a few leppa berries out and gently crush them in her mouth.

"It's not much, but it's what I have at the moment."

Aurate and I float above her in silence. She still isn't moving, but… it appears she doesn't know what she's feeling anymore. I can tell she's very conflicted with the same question I am; is it pointless to move forward? What motivation can she have when her actions amount to nothing?

Suddenly, she flicks her tongue. It's so brief, I wonder for a moment if it even happened. She does it again, this time licking some of the berry juice off the edge of her mouth. She savors the flavor for a moment, before opening her eyes. With tears in my eyes, unable to say anything, I smile down at her, then embrace her tightly.

"Frost?" she says with a warm smile.

"Hmm?" I say, not wanting to let go of her.

"You're still here."

"So are you," I say.

"Frost, it's not pointless, because… one day I will die, and you will fade with me, but… memories will persist. The memories of the places we'll go and people we'll meet, and maybe even… the delicious food we'll eat. Life, Frost, has no meaning, I think. At least, I think our job is to give it one."

She swallows some bile then says, "Nocturan said once that freedom is what you do with what people have done to you, but I choose to make the best of what I have. Frost, all I have are memories of you, Lyle, Jude, and Cryptia, and nothing… will ever mean more to me, then the persistence of memory."


	12. Chapter 12: Strike Twelve

**Special Episode: Strike Twelve**

 _Tick, tick, tick…_

Am I still dreaming? I hear the clacking of a very powerful clock. Very few clocks exist in the pokemon world, if any. That either means we're in the human world or…

"Awaken, Felicia. There's so much work to be done in so little time," Aphot whispers.

So… foggy. I rub my eyes and sit up to get a better view of my surroundings, but most of my field of view is taken up by Aphot. Even with how close he is, I can barely see him. I blink a few times, thinking that maybe I'm still groggy, but it doesn't work.

"Dear Felicia, your eyes and everything about you has weakened. Here, let me help you."

He extends his hand to me, but instead of lifting me up, he waits patiently for me to grab onto him on my own. Surprisingly, I'm able to. For the first time in possibly forever, I'm standing on my own two legs. I don't think I'm strong enough to walk yet, but a feeling of euphoria comes over me from this one, menial thing. Aphot smiles along with me with the same kind of amusement as when a bisharp's apprentice wins their first dual.

"For a moment, you were a child again. I wish there were more people like you, Felicia."

It's painful for me to move around, but I do anyway for the sake of a feeling I vaguely remember. It feels almost like… being alive again. I know I'm not dead, but it's almost as if I have been since I entered my own dream for the first time. This excruciating pain is the first real sensation I've felt in eternity, and I love it.

I move my feet through a sea of gentle, pale white flowers, holding myself up against a large ash tree. As I'm enjoying myself, I notice I'm no longer wearing the tattered remains of what I called clothes, but rather a long black dress made from a thin, but comfortable fabric.

"Did you make this, Aphot?"

"Oh, no. I dreamed it up. Thought it would look nice on you."

"Wait, does that mean you… changed my clothes for me?" I ask with a sly smile.

"Come now. I didn't travel through worlds and dreams to pursue romanticisms with you. You are here as a protege. If companionship is that important to you, I suggest you seek out our old friend Venomitus."

"Not a chance," I say with a sigh. "He's in Archaea right now I think, and my sister is more his type. He's got a thing for psychos."

"How dire. Whatever you're looking for will come to you, I'm sure. Until then, I'm thousands of years older than you, and I know Nocturan would've said otherwise, but age does matter among immortals."

"Not really," I mutter.

"Is that so? I don't suppose you would be willing to pursue the great Nocturan himself, then?"

"Heavens no! He's ancient."

"Precisely," Aphot says. "I'm not nearly his age, but old enough."

I fold my arms, forgetting for a moment that they're the only thing helping me keep my balance. No longer supported, I smack my face against the tree and fall to the ground. The sudden shock of the pain sends I simultaneous frenzy of exhileration throughout my body. Through the cloud of sensation and emotion, I have a sudden realization about the weirdness of the bliss I'm feeling. I'm sure I wouldn't have felt that way a long time ago. Do I really crave raw feeling that much?

"As I said before, so much work to be done," Aphot says. "I'll retrain you to be as powerful as you were. You will become more than that… a hunter, as they called it in my time. First, you will have to get comfortable with yourself again. Hopefully that will cure you of your newfound... masochism."

 _Tick, tick, tick- ding!_

An old human tune a can't remember the name of plays from the clock, followed by twelve consecutive rings similar to an old church bell. Aphot looks up to a nearby building and smiles.

"Now, you've had your little moment of enjoyment. This… this is the part where you will come to hate my very being. The coming times are going to be very difficult for you, but you will thank me once it's over. Come now, we have no time to waste."

He flies away toward a gate at the edge of the garden... with me still on the ground, barely able to move on my own. I realize he's right, this is going to be hard, and I'm going to hate every minute of it.

"If I were you," he calls back, "I wouldn't sit idle for very long. Once the little ones find a friend, they embrace them for a very long time. If you're unlucky enough, you may find yourself having one of their children."

He passes through the gate, but leaves it open behind him. The last thing he says before disappearing from view is "Anyone can succeed, Felicia. The question is, can you go beyond even that? You will find your worth within the dream, and in the waking world."


	13. Chapter 13: The Witchdoctor

**Chamber Nexus, Isla Delirium (Sepullen)**

"This… this is where my path diverges," I say. "Ember is your concern, not mine. Rook, accompany them to the control chamber to retrieve Rose, and do not fail. Venomitus, with me. This place, it intrigues me."

We stand before an elevator, minds ready. Whereas I do recognize Venomitus' distraction with one of his trivial moral dilemmas, I know he's where he needs to be for now. I've seen through his ingenious facade of defiance and mockery, down to his last thought of simultaneous hate and love for my being. It still bothers me that I can't seem to decide whether he feels any of that for the current version of me, or who I was.

I believe these trivialities are good for him. No one, not even myself, is born perfect. It takes years, centuries for some, to tear themselves down to their bare bones before building themselves anew. It took me fifteen years to become who I am today, but I believe Venomitus will reach perfection before that. However long it takes, I know I can accelerate his growth by tearing him down myself.

With the duality of my condescendence and his self-doubt, he will lose his sense of morality as I have, and realize the futility of things less than he and I. He will no longer desire me as a friend, but as an accomplice. He will want to use me as I have used him, and once he does, I won't mind it. Someday, I might betray myself and, of all things, be proud of him.

For the time being, I'll be patient with him. Part of perfection is accepting that there are variables you can't account for, but to control as many as you can. Unfortunately, Venomitus is a very uncontrollable variable, and so I've concluded that controlling the variables around him is the optimal solution.

"Well, if it is what you say, it's time for us to go our separate ways," Mr. Money says. "I know you don't care, but I suppose a thanks is necessary."

"You are correct," I say. "I don't care. Come, Venomitus. Let us descend to the deepest level of this structure and unlock its secrets."

Venomitus steps onto the elevator, and I follow behind him. On the wall of it, there's a map of the chambers and sub chambers of the island. From the way it's mapped out, it seems that the elevator doesn't just move vertically, it has six different directions. However, the only direction I'm interested in at the moment is down. On the outside, the contraption has safety precautions and shock measures, but none of that matters to me or Venomitus.

Even he knows what I'm about to do, though he thinks I'm making a showman of myself. In actuality, I only care about the most efficient solution to any given obstacle. The current obstacle is the abysmal speed the elevator would move at if I were interested in wasting my valuable time letting it run on it's own mechanisms.

Using psychic force, I unhinge the elevator and crush all of its internal parts. The soft white light illuminating the us is quickly replaced by absolute darkness. What follows is the top of the elevator smashing into my form and descending at a continuously accelerating velocity. There comes a point when I stop holding my body up entirely and let it bounce around like an eyeball in a glass jar, but a glass jar falling near terminal velocity unaffected by anything other than the force of gravity.

Through the chaos, I catch a glimpse of Venomitus, who has anchored himself to the wall with both of his claws. As expected, he doesn't look terrified, but I didn't think he would get this much… enjoyment out of an activity that would end any other pokemon's life. Somehow, the almost maniacal smile that stretches across his face reminds me of something he said once.

" _There are two types of pokemon, Sepullen, and I'm not interested in the naive or the self-righteous. If I could just find the madmen who dare to walk off the path made for them, then maybe I would be at peace."_

Despite knowing his every thought, I still struggle to understand what, exactly, he means. He may not know it, but one of the primary reasons that I keep him around is his infinitely curious nature. No matter how much I know about him, there seems to be an indefinite amount of information that is unknown to me.

For instance, he doesn't have any memories older than twenty-five years, despite his excellent memory and apparent mental age. His energy suggest that he was human before he died, which isn't impossible, but humans are usually brought to this world to save it, then be returned when their role is fulfilled.

Of course there have been exceptions to that rule, like Mr. Money, who was brought back to a timeline that isn't his, or Jude, who convinced that annoying Agent of Spirits Felicia to bring him back, but I've known Venomitus since the moment of his rebirth as a sableye. We've travelled together since the beginning, and every subsequent moment has been spent travelling the world in search of knowledge, power, and relics.

That goal alone is the only thing that unites us now. At one time I could say that I shared a certain bond with him. One of a mentor, helping him understand his place in a world that isn't his, but we're past that now. It's as natural for a pokemon to evolve physically as it is mentally, and unfortunately for his ideals, I have corroded away all ties of trust and companionship and replaced them with ambition and expectation. Now, I only hope he can do the same, but right now, he still trusts me.

 _Oh Venomitus. What good is it to walk off the path made for you, if you consistently destroy the one you make for yourself. I too, don't particularly care for the naive or the self-righteous. Though you might think I'm self-righteous, I just don't put faith in anything I can't control absolutely, and in the end, I can't let myself down if I already know what choices I'm going to make._

The only reason the elevator doesn't completely flatten when it smashes against the bottom of the shaft is the air-tightness of the shaft itself. I can't see anything, but that's due to the amount of sizzling smoke coming off of Venomitus' body as it regenerates itself from near annihilation. At this point in time, not enough of him is left to even call a pokemon.

"Quickly, Venomitus," I say.

"Just once, you could pretend to care," he says as his body fully materializes. "Wheh-heh, that would be hilarious."

"Logically, even if I was capable of feeling sympathy, I would have the knowledge and reassurance that you can't die, and therefore, still wouldn't care."

The two of us worm our way out of the wreckage and observe the room before us. It appears to be a large, submarine glass dome with a clear view of the poison-type pokemon living below the murky ocean. Throughout the room is several tables of scientific and magical mechanisms, most of which seem to be made for different kinds of blood work.

At the center of the room is a massive, dark purple shell from a pokemon I've never seen. Nearby to us is a somewhat thick book entitled _The Complete Definition of Arcane Science -Bloodwitch Saeva._ I levitate it closer to me and open to a random page. I'm astonished to see, in a spellbook of all things, a chart of subatomic particles contained within an atom.

"'Bravery Acceleration, the first of the seven magical attunements, manifests as a force that excites atoms, turning them volatile and malleable. Most techniques with this attunement make use of it's flexible nature to create barriers, or it's unstable nature to create explosions within an object.'"

That reminds me of… my own magic. Already intrigued, I skip a few pages. Venomitus fools around with the machinery in the background, but I'm too focused to know or care about whatever it is he's doing.

"'Integrity Destruction, is the fourth of the seven magical attunements'," I continue aloud. "'It manifests as the temporary transference of all particles in an object to tachyons, requiring almost no energy to travel at high speeds. Techniques are almost always restricted to transportation of the user. With the combination of the bright reaction of the particles, and the sound barrier often being broken, this attunement has been understandabley, but mistakenly identified as lightning.'"

"Venomitus, carry this with you. I wish to-" I turn Venomitus, and the large contraption he seems to have activated. It's made from several levitating rings, none of which make contact with one another. They spin around some invisible axis, marked somewhat by Venomitus standing in the center of the machine.

He's as, if not more, intrigued with the machine as I am with the spellbook. Curiously, I can't read his thoughts or emotions, but I can tell he's under some sort of trance. Not a magical one, but rather, the same trance that other members of his species get when they see some sort of shiny valuable.

Venomitus isn't that simple, but he does fall for the same kind of thing with other worldly energy. I've not figured it out quite yet, but it's almost as if he can feel it before he sees it. Without that one factor, we wouldn't have found any of the other relics in my collection.

I'll never tell him that, of course. He doesn't need one thing to latch onto while I'm trying to tear him down. If only he knew how easily I could turn his life into a joyful little bubble of wonder, but why would I do that? Happiness is temporary, and joy is fleeting. I think often of a particular phrase of Nocturan's that pertains to this.

 _What good are emotions, when all they serve to do is feed the personal ego. The soul is the only infinite thing, now is there anything better to feed the soul than drive and ambition?_

I've always thought that there _is_ something better to feed the soul, but what? It's the single most troubling question I've ever thought of, but one I intend to solve. I will never tell this to Venomitus either, but I believe his sheer contradiction to me in ideals despite all my efforts is the answer. If drive and ambition don't move him forward, then what does?

Certainly not me, even though his goal for me seems to be the same as mine for him. This is another part of perfection; accepting that you can't always understand someone's motivations, no matter how much you think you know them. Perfect beings are never the same, and don't ever think the same. I am a very different individual then Nocturan, even doubting his ideals and claims sometimes.

That's why I will never be his expectation for perfect, but rather, my own. I never fail to meet my expectations, so Venomitus should… oh, I see. It seems I've made a mistake, therefore, maybe I'm not perfect. Making a mistake is a flaw, and while eliminating flaws are a step to perfection, perfection is no longer having flaws to eliminate. Logically, even if I have one flaw, I remain imperfect.

Disappointing, but I always will remain calm. I have two paths I can take. Either I can progress forward to meet my ideal perfect, or can simply lower my expectations so that I meet them. None of those things can happen. One requires me to admit my failure to Venomitus, and the other one is equivalent to giving up for the sake of uncomplication. Most of all, they would require me to break my promise to myself to never lose.

I'll just have to restrategize. From now on, I will have to understand Venomitus and pry deeper into the level of his mind that I cannot touch with my telekinesis. It will be hard, but I'll listen to his petty criticisms and little moral speeches, and through his words, I might be able to piece together the mystery of his mind.

While deep in thought, I hadn't noticed the machine giving off a faint blue glow. Not wanting to lose the one thing that gives my day-to-day life meaning, I teleport Venomitus next to me and observe the machine. Nothing remarkable has happened to it since it started glowing, but I do catch a glimpse at the runic markings in the edges of the rings. Looking closer, I immediately recognize what this machine is supposed to be.

"The Star Taker Compass…," I say.

"Quite right, little ones," a pokemon resembling the shell that was in the center of the room says. "Capable of transporting any object to any coordinates they can think of, though I haven't quite figured out time…"

Not needing me to tell him what to do, Venomitus readies his claws in a stance. Fury Swipes? That's not the stance I would've chosen for an aerial opponent, but I'm not bipedal so he wouldn't listen to me if I said anything. The shelled pokemon does a vain offence gesture.

"Do you not have manners?" she asks. "You come into my home, then threaten me with your… well kept teeth and your pretty green eyes, and…"

Venomitus looks at me in bewilderment.

"Oh, she's fallen in love with me hasn't she?"

"Infatuation is very different then love, Venomitus," I say.

"Indeed it is, but what do I do?"

"This is very unexpected, but we at least we know she's not a threat for now."

"...Dazzlingly handsome claws and… Oh, I apologize. I guess I started rambling. What can I do for you little ones?" she asks.

"Foremost," I say. "Who are you?"

"Some would call me a witch, but prefer to think of myself as a scientist. To the seafarers, I'm known as the goddess Tapu Fini, but I don't like to put myself on a pedestal like that, so you can just call me Kala if you like."

"One of the Fini's," I say. "Interesting that you would be here out of all places. Most believe that you're free spirits, travelling the world without a care or purpose."

"Oh, let's not talk about the others," Kala says. "They're much too aimless for my tastes. Instead let's talk about why you're here."

"I am Relic Master Sepullen, and this is-"

"I know who you are," she interrupts. "And I think I can guess why you're here."

She levitates an orb from a nearby table up to her. A white pulse emits from it, disabling all my magical properties, including the ability to levitate. I fall to the ground next to Venomitus, who changes his stance like he's prepared to tackle, rather than slash. Kala is undoubtedly very powerful, but with the combined strength of Venomitus and I, I think we can match her in combat. If only I could move…

"You came for the salamence and the sylveon, didn't you? Well, here's a little fact. There is a symbiote living in that sylveon that possesses immense regenerative ability. Xenon, not living for as long as I have, didn't recognize what the symbiote was, or it's nature."

She flies to the opposite side of the room to a wall, decorated with countless drawings and diagrams of an otherworldly being. Being at a distance, I can't get a decent view of the drawings, and can't read the powerful ghost-type's mind.

"Oh, but you little one's know this pokemon. Don't you remember? It drove Lyle of Team Elemental mad. You _should_ remember, Venomitus."

She looks through his eyes, into his soul and smiles.

"You killed both of them after all, didn't you?"

Venomitus drops his guard and falls to the ground. My mind is overloaded with the sheer amount of emotion running through him. I see memories of pokemon I've met, and some that I haven't. I see events that date back precisely fifteen years. Lyle, who had gone missing just before Venomitus had met him, became his friend. They travelled together for a short while, all under the assumption that Lyle was taking a short break from Team Elemental.

At that time, Venomitus didn't have an inkling of an idea that his team didn't know where he was. At first, Lyle was calm and logical, but over time he developed outbursts of violence. It eventually came to a point where Lyle was angry in every waking moment of his life. He found others like him with decaying sentience, or worse. He became a warlord in Archaea, so with the combined efforts of Venomitus, Team Gold, and a young Team Life Energy, they faced his army, but it was Venomitus who murdered Lyle and… the pokemon behind his madness.

The pokemon is a symbiote that latches itself onto a pokemon and turns them violent for no benefit to itself, but only to invoke chaos. That pokemon's name is Deoxys, and it currently resides in Rose. On that realization, the pieces fall together. Kala doesn't want him for his regeneration.

"I don't think Xenon understands quite yet. Why would I want to put a symbiote that enhances regeneration into a pokemon like Ember, who already has quite an impressive regenerative ability? I don't want to farm Ember, little ones. I want to make him a weapon."

"Venomitus!" I yell into his mind. "Use the Star Taker Compass to get to the others before that happens! She doesn't know what we know! Try to remember why Ember is called the Star Eater!"

Before Kala can do anything about it, Venomitus jumps into the machine and disappears. However, just before he disappears, he launches some sort of projectile toward Kala. Power Gem? What is he…? The crystal fires through the air and pierces the pearly white anti-magic orb. As soon as I feel my magical energy return, I accelerate Kala's core and heat up her insides.

"Supernova? How elementary. You can't use magic for what works, little one. You have to be proficient with your skills."

My attempt to explode her is nullified. To demonstrate her point, several miniature red lights form in the area around me. It doesn't take very long for them to become unstable and explode. The explosions do nothing against my holographic shield, so I stay in place. Before the dust and smoke clear, I turn both of my limbs into glowing white blades and burst forward. While flying through the air, I use Rapid Spin, effectively turning my entire body into a one-hundred and eighty pound, high velocity saw blade.

 _Succeed, Venomitus. If you fail, I could quite possibly die. We are immortal, but unlike you, I'm not invincible._

 **Southern Twisted Craigs (Vanish)**

Dearest souls, I've been in the business of deception for a long time. Did you really think you could leave we with the slowest, clunkiest member of your team, and a drunken idiot. You should have stayed behind, Mr. Money. You should've been able to see through it. Do you really think I would've been defeated by even you and Frost combined.

Here I stand, before Isla Delirium. You've all fallen right into my ploy. I imagine at least one of you has met my teacher, Witchdoctor Kala. Well, It's been fun, but she's asked me to burn the island to the ground, and who am I to refuse her, loves? Farewell, and may you all die in a bloody fire.

 **Hello everyone, lots of content today. Something Ralmon said gave me an idea for Chapter 11, so I'll give credit where it's due. So far, I'm really enjoying the story and I hope everyone else is too. Anyway, the character Aurate the marshadow belongs to RodiumTech, and Caesium is a character that he and I came up with together. As I always say, OC's are welcome anytime, so feel free to submit an idea.**

 _-V. Locke_


	14. Chapter 14: If only I could die

**This chapter contains some gore. If that's not your kind of thing, I will warn you that it's going to be somewhat regular. I don't exactly think I've given this story a sunshine-and-rainbows type atmosphere, so it should be fine.**

 **The Gateway (Venomitus)**

It's a strange effect, really. Even as a ghost, this is the first time I've truly been disembodied. I'm trying to imagine what this place is. Wherever it is that I'm travelling through, I feel like I've been here before. I vaguely remember this being what the bridge between worlds looks like. For some reason, the twisting of all the vibrant colors makes me feel nostalgic.

I remember Kala saying that the machine I went through would take me to any coordinates I could think of, but I wasn't thinking of anywhere in particular when I entered. I can't think of what I would do if I ended up in the wrong place, like space, or another dimension.

For all I know, I could be accelerating toward no destination, heading toward a colorful, infinite void. I'm interrupted from my thoughts, when I'm brought to an abrupt halt. In an instant, the colors around me have transitioned from the calming colors of the rainbow, to soft, unsettling shades of purple and black.

In the center of the void is a pokemon, a gardevoir. This gardevoir has pale blue hair, a noticable difference to the light green of most of their species. She stands silent and still, the colors beneath her feet pulse like a heartbeat. The whole picture is sinister, yet alluring. I walk forward, but at my slightest movement, the gardevoir snaps her head toward me. I only see one of her deep, hostile purple eyes, and where others would feel fear, I feel comfort.

"You… You're not afraid," she says. "I knew it had to be you. Everyone is afraid, but we all find comfort in others like us, don't we?"

She turns around with dramatic movements, like she's playing some sort of caped vampire in a play. Her limbs are nearly skeletal, but she still moves them around with ease. As she moves toward me, the colors bend around her, like the world itself is her servant.

"Oh, the memories we've shared, that you no longer have. I'm sorry, Venomitus, for something that happened that you can't recall. I didn't do anything to you, but family sins are shared, I think. Oh it hurts, Venomitus. I feel their hate, all of it. They fear me, so I stay hidden in places like this."

What's her name? She's in my memory somewhere, but I can't quite recall. All I remember is that I felt great love for whoever she is and, despite my memory loss, still do. I want to reach out to her, but I think that would be rude. Instead, I wait patiently for her to come to me. When she does, she looks down at me.

"If you had kept going, it would have been forever. I don't know how you got here, but… you have no destination. You're static, in here and out there. You have two paths from here. You can come with me, but all of them… little Branna, Frost, your friend Sepullen, they will all die. Or, you can go back to them, try to save them, and they will still die. You will just be there to watch."

Somehow, I don't think she believes what she's saying. What is she trying to do? I already know what I'm going to say, but what does she want me to say? No, what does she _hope_ I'll say?

"Your name is a beautiful one," I say. "I think your name is… Emerald? I think it was you who told me once that… true madness is walking off the paths made for you and making your own. No one is dying today, but you know that already."

Suddenly, she pulls me into a tight embrace. Her arms wrap around me comfortably, a sensation I haven't felt in years. I feel her tears falling onto my back as she holds me tighter. It feels like forever, even in this timeless void, that we enjoy the raw joy of each other's company. Her very presence brings me more satisfaction than anything I've done in the last twenty-five years.

Finally, she lets go of me, but very slowly and reluctantly. I can tell that this is harder for her than it is for me, because I don't remember anything about her, but she knows exactly who I am. Whatever our history is, I desperately want to remember it. How can anyone make me feel so… complete.

"You remember," she says. "You just have to find those memories again. For now, know that as long as I remain alive, you will never fade away. You are my memory, Venomitus, and a very good one. This is goodbye, but I will see you soon."

Before I can say anything back to her, I… wake up? That's strange. I haven't slept in my entire existence as a ghost. More than that, I feel well rested, like I've regained the vigor of a living youth. With this vigor, comes a sudden sadness. For a mere moment, I was living my forgotten past. I was on the brink of remembering something significant.

 _Emerald. Who are you, and what do you mean to me?_ No, I know the answer to that. She means everything to me, despite not remembering a single moment we shared together. I know at least that much.

 _Indeed, for now is goodbye, but I will remember you someday._

 **Control Chamber (Branna)**

"Damn it! I know you wouldn't listen to me before, but I'm telling you to stop!"

I move about the chamber, looking for signs of Rose. According to this weird pokemon, Aurate I think, Ember of Team Gold is also here. A giant dragon can't be that easy to miss, can it? My entire body hurts still, and I think I'm running on adrenaline at this point, but I can't give up now. I've come so far already.

I think I died, didn't I? I vaguely remember being poisoned, then Lorem saying something. That was just a dream, I'm sure. I've heard some crazy near-death stories. That must've been one of those delusions caused by trauma, or something in the poison.

That still doesn't explain how I'm still alive, or what happened to my skin. It's almost like I'm still dying, but somethings keeping me alive. I don't feel much of anything anymore, whether it's the hunger I felt before, or the metal paneling beneath me. All sensations are numb, except for one. I want to sleep, but I can't.

I'm not leaving here without Rose or Ember. I can't just walk away from a child in need, and… Ember was a friend of mine at one point back when Team Elemental and Team Gold would go on missions together. At this point, there's only one thing trying to stop me, and she knows I won't.

"Think of yourself, Branna! Please stop forcing yourself to stay awake."

Ever since I woke up, there's been some sort of connection between me and Frost. I know what she's feeling, and I'm assuming she knows what I'm feeling. So just as she knows I'll die before I ever consider giving up, I know that she's not really angry, but afraid. After I nearly died, she's afraid of losing me for real.

Ever since that conversation I had with Blind, I don't fear death, but I would rather live if possible. However, my life is mine to give, even if I do believe that against all odds that I won't die. I already survived what delusional me called a 'cosmic dice roll', so what's to say I can't do it again. Whatever the case, I'm willing to take that chance.

"Damn it, Branna, I said STOP!"

While deep in thought, I don't realize until I bump my head into it that I'm surrounded by a holographic green barrier. Though, it doesn't appear to be either the ability Barrier or Protect. This barrier resembles a glass shell, rather than just some green energy. I turn back, and to my surprise, Frost is just as shocked as I am.

Even more than that, I notice her green eyes glowing like Sepullen's have. Through all her stress, I feel the main ingredient in her brew of emotions. It comes in the form of a pure understanding of her will and intention; kindness. We both know it, but somehow her intention is projecting itself outward in the form of energy, or a kind of magic.

"Branna," she says. "Please stop. I don't need to tell you how I feel, so instead I'll ask you one final time to stop what you're doing. Your life is yours to give, sure, but it's also mine. In a literal sense, you're the only one who holds good memories of me while I was alive, so if you die I die."

She comes closer to me, giving me a disapproving glare.

"But more than that, despite this incarnation of me and the way I've lived, you and and that stupid persian still believe I can change. For that I… could never thank either of you enough, so for you to sit here playing blackjack with Death on his front porch is downright insulting to the purpose you think I have, and to the future you want to have."

For now, while I'm still inside the barrier, I can't go anywhere. I hear what she's saying, but I'm going forward with this whether she likes it or not. I'd rather die anyway, than know that there was someone I couldn't save. I don't care if they are friend, foe, or stranger.

Even if I know Mr. Money, Venomitus, and Sepullen can handle themselves, I don't trust anyone but the persian. I've just heard too many rumors and accusations against him and his team, and even if Venomitus isn't part of his team, he might as well be. I'm not sure about the others, but Koncordia has shown herself to be more of a hunter than a fighter, and I figured out very quickly how much of a sock puppet Rook is.

Blind is different. I still don't know much about her, and she hasn't told anyone why she came with Venomitus in the first place. Not even Sepullen seems to have any idea what she's doing. She seems capable enough, but she's just a bartender as far as I know, and a previous member of Team Fade. That doesn't matter, though. I believe anyone can change if their hearts in the right place.

So, I won't stop until I know that Rose and Ember are safe. More than that, I want Frost to help, so that she might start to see some good in herself. With this connection that we share, I feel now more than ever the deep void of emptiness within her. Even after what we've been through in the past day, she still wants to fade away, but now she doesn't want me to die.

"Branna… You are on the brink of death. What will you do if we encounter the skarmory again? You can't fight in your condition. Hell, you can barely stay awake."

"Barely, but can stay awake as long as I need to."

"You don't," she says. "You don't need to stay awake at all. We have the leaders from two of the greatest teams on our side. Sepullen and Mr. Money will find a way, even if the Relic Master doesn't care that much."

"Screw 'em. You're forgetting that you, Frost, are greater than both of them. Your previous team are outlaws, sure, but you were able to avoid Team Gold for years. You created one of the most powerful magical veils I've ever seen, and somehow, not even physical objects can get through this energy barrier you created."

"What are you…?"

During this entire conversation, I've been implanting microscopic roots into the ground trying to find a break or weak spot in the barrier. Unfortunately, the energy barrier reaches underground, not just where I can see it.

"So you still want to go on, then?" Frost asks.

"Definitely."

"Very well. If I can't stop you, then I'll make you a deal. Team Gold is going to take me to Goldmine when all of this is over. Promise me you'll convince Mr. Money to let me come with you. This is the only time I'm ever going let you do something so stupid."

"I promise," I say while nodding my head. "But I can't guarantee he'll say yes."

"That's fine."

"Oi," Aurate says, appearing next to us. "I 'aven't the slightest idea if ya can 'ear all that commotion."

Somewhere above us, through the loud machinery, are sounds of battle. Specifically, the sounds of electricity and the destruction of metal. The sounds are distant and barely noticeable at first, but they come disturbingly closer. It's almost like whoever's fighting is tearing deeper into the ceiling from above us.

On a gut feeling, Frost and I move to the edge of the room. Aurate stays in place, staring at the ceiling with a burning intensity in his eyes. Somehow, I think he knows who's fighting. He waits in anticipation as the fighting comes closer and close.

"This is it then, ol' mate," he says. "Come right to me."

Two pokemon crash through the ceiling and onto the ground in front of Aurate. Right away, I recognize Mr. Money being pinned beneath a hulking nidoking. With one hand on the persian's neck, and the other one free, he tosses a satchel to the side as he notices Frost, Aurate, and me.

"What do we have here?" He asks. "Aurate, dear friend, did these young ladies release you from confinement? And you, Branna, I'm curious as to how you're feeling. Well enough to be up and about, but you appear to be exhausted. Why not rest a while? You're not going to want to see me kill Money here are you?"

"Ah… get him off me, will you?" Mr. Money says. He struggles under the nidoking's grip, but somehow, he doesn't look like he's worried at all. The hulking reptile tightens his hold to the point where the tips of his claws break Mr. Money's skin. His blood stains the nidoking's claws a pale red, but he's still calm, even as he starts wheezing.

Aurate's entire body flares up with a blue-green aura. The softer colors of the flames contrast perfectly with Aurate's burning yellow eyes. Frost and I both feel intense emotion not just in him, but expressed through the sheer power and heat radiating off of him.

"Hmph," the nidoking grunts. "That's… the power of your father. That would make you.."

He looks around the room at each of us. His eyes pass over Frost, then me. His gaze is a condescending one, almost like he's disregarding us entirely.

"...The only one powerful enough to stand against me," he says. "Regardless, all of you who can die, shall. I'll find a purpose for the rest of you."

Rook and Koncordia drop through the hole in the ceiling after Mr. Money and the nidoking. Without hesitation, the bisharp runs up the reptile's back with a blade ready to cut his neck. With his free hand, the nidoking punches him with the force of a train into a nearby wall. Watching Rook's metal body smash through several gears and pistons like paper, Koncordia cowers and backs off.

"Enough, gnats!" the nidoking bellows. "The only credit I'll give any of you is your resilience, but your persistence is pestilent."

He slams his hand on the ground with even greater force then he punched Rook with. Pouring his power into the metal crater, thick spikes made of rock rip open the ground around us, walling Mr. Money, the nidoking, Aurate, and me off from Frost, Rook, and Koncordia.

"So, ol' mate," Aurate says. "Divide an' conquer, is it? Good. I wanted to kick those ugly teeth in myself."

With tired eyes, I blink once. In that moment, Aurate is gone. In his place are several tiny purple and red balls of fire, which launch toward the nidoking at medium speed. The nidoking tosses an unconscious Mr. Money to the side and raises his massive arms to block. However, as soon as he does, Aurate appears behind him with a shadowy fist and quickly moves to strike.

In an instant, he finds himself confined by the nidoking's tail. I'm surprised honestly, because I didn't think that a marshadow's body would be solid, but apparently the nidoking knew it was. Not wanting to stand here and do nothing, I implant tiny roots in the ground, waiting for the perfect moment. They spread slowly and carefully around the metal panels and machinery that the entire room is made of.

Through our bond, I feel Frost's panic as she tries to find a way past the rock wall. From the other side, I hear her striking it with more physical power than I thought she had. I think she knows what I'm doing, but despite her, I think I'm going to try to fight the nidoking. I know what her point would be if I could hear her, but I absolutely believe I'm not going to die today. Even if I do, I would have given my life meaning and purpose, because at the end of the day, either we win, or the nidoking does.

Aurate desperately attacks the nidoking with his entire arsenal. He rapid-fires ghostly fire balls and struggles to break free of the massive reptilian tail. It all does nothing against his thick skin and scales however, and so the nidoking turns his attention to me.

"Funny thing, your heart still isn't beating. Your breathing seems normal… and your scales, though withering away, have stopped decaying, but also aren't trying to repair themselves. An anomaly for sure, but due to circumstances, I can't investigate further."

He takes a few steps toward me, bending the metal underneath him as he does so. Even in the middle of combat, he doesn't seem angry or even willing to fight. He has the same aura of curiosity for the world around him that I've seen in the Relic Master a few times. More than that, his curiosity seems to be focused on me.

"Hmm… on second thought, maybe I can," he says. "You must be confused, dearest Branna. I don't believe we've been properly introduced. I am Xenon. Iode, Caesium, Barium, and I make up Team Gamma. Call us scientists, outlaws, whatever you want, but we harvest organs with the help of the mistress Kala to bring food where there isn't any to the starving creatures of Archaea."

He's right in front of me now, but my roots are anchoring me to the ground. I just hope I can prepare my attack before he does anything. Oddly, he doesn't seem hostile. He reached down and lightly scrapes his claw on one of the mycelium-like growths on my skin. Ignoring Aurate's frantic attacking from behind him, he examines a small particle of the strange substance.

"This seems to be the same as the Paleblood I observed earlier, yet it's solidified," he says. "Though it's not fungal like growths of similar nature. What does it mean?"

My roots have thickened and spread throughout every crack in the ground, and his rock wall. It's only now that I realize that I've effectively made the rock wall stronger, but it's too late to think about that now. Not wanting to wait any longer, my roots rip from the ground like vines and constrict every one of Xenon's limbs several times over.

"Hmm," he sighs. " _'One of life's greatest mysteries is why, when the given odds are one-hundred to null, mortals will still deny their absolute fate.'_ Let me tell you something for your ears only, and I suppose Aurate's too, but doubtless he can't hear anything over all that explosion."  
He gazes down at me. With no effort, he twists his body in a motion that easily breaks through the roots and vines. Unfortunately, that was all I had the energy for, so now I'm here, barely able to move, with a nidoking who's obviously able to handle pokemon that are more powerful than me.

"As Nocturan so aptly put, your odds are one-hundred to null. I won't kill you, if only you accept that. I have made two paths for you who's outcomes every pokemon should grasp; life or death. You've come very close to death, and yet here you are. Which will you choose?"

I have come close to death, but I've also seen others come close to death since I've been here. I watched Vanish torch Sinista, I've seen the desperation in Koncordia to eat. Those kinds of pokemon are the ones I want to protect. Besides, Xenon isn't some sort of cosmic being. He believes my odds are none, but I don't believe that. So if he wants to talk about odds, I guess I'll roll the dice to see what happens. I can't control what happens, but I'll take any chance I have.

I look up at him. I don't think I'm showing any sort of emotion. Not because I'm trying to maintain a poker face, or keep my composure. Mostly I'm too tired, and if I live through this, I'm going to take a _long_ nap. I can't rest now, though. Xenon waits patiently for my answer, but taps his feet against the ground in boredom.

"You're giving me time to think?" I ask.

"Why not? We have all the time in the world," he says. " No one can get to us, and the two pokemon who had an inkling of a chance are incapacitated. Regardless, I wasn't here to fight in the first place. Have you made a decision?"

"You gave me two choices, but I'm thinkin' it's not as simple as all that. Really you meant life by submission, or death by defiance."

He grins slightly. Something about all this almost seems like a test or a game. Maybe not. Maybe he's just having fun with this, or like a scientist; experimenting. Whatever the case, I feel like I'm hanging by a small, torn string. Just because I don't believe I will die, doesn't mean I'm ignoring the possibility that I _can_ die. Xenon has the very real capability to kill me, and I'm not in a position to make the wrong move.

"You shall go down in history, dearest Branna, as the only pokemon to ever make me smile for anything other than shrieks of terror. You know why? It's because you've successfully, and calmly deduced something I've said, without running away in fear. You haven't a clue how that makes me feel."

On some level, I do understand, but to a different effect. People back home know me for my generosity and kindness, but never for my character. No one understands my drive and determination to do things the way I do. Whenever I make a pie for someone for instance, they never stop and think that I might be making it for them to get feedback on my cooking, or because I specifically thought of them.

It's always because I'm the 'nice girl on the edge of town' and it's to the point where me being generous is an expectation, and no one stops to think about why I cook all the time. It's not just that I like making food for other pokemon, I just like food. The way it tastes and the different things I can do with it. It's boring just to eat by myself, though, so I share it with others not just for them, but for me.

"You want to know something?" Xenon asks. "I know now what you're going to choose. Because of your moral nature, you can't submit. Doubtless you care about all of these… pokemon. However, regardless of your composure, you do fear me, so you won't defy me either. Simply put, you can't choose. You're simply one of the most interesting pokemon I've ever met."

He laughs.

"You're heavily influenced by your emotions, yet you're smart enough to control them. A rare sight for sure. For that," he says. "...I'll make your decision for you. It's people like you, or Mr. Money come to think of it, that make things happen. In Nocturan's writing, no mortal action means anything, but who can say? You may prove him wrong one day."

Xenon is supposed to be the enemy, and yet he's actually making me feel good about myself. I even smile a little bit. I have to wonder though, what decision has he made for me? I don't think he would kill me after all this, yet it seems equally cruel to just force my submission.

"You're free to go, dearest Branna," he says.

It takes me a moment.

"What?" I ask, not in disbelief, but to make sure I actually heard what I think I did.

"You're free to move on. There's no cure at the moment for what Caesium did to you, but you seem to be just fine. To be clear, this doesn't mean anything for the rest of them. None of them shall leave here."

"You think I'm just going to-" I start.

"Yes," he says, pulling out a device from his satchel, made of several interconnected rings. "I do."

He turns one of the rings, and in an instant I find myself on a hill on the mainland. The morning sun illuminates the island fortress and the bridge that used to connect it to the rest of the craigs. Taking a good look, I see that the few trees there are on Isla Delirium are overshadowed by the grey and black shards of metal that make up each of it's chambers. Steam and smoke drift out of large chimneys that I'm guessing are connected some of the furnaces I've seen at different points in time.

"Nice view, don't you think?" a voice says. Before I look at them, I hear the familiar sound of a quark popping off the end of a bottle. I wince slightly when I see Blind guzzling a bottle of Ambrosia.

"You can't even see anything," I say.

"You're absolutely right," she says. "I'm not even sure where I am, because that asshole Relic Master decided I would be a 'weak link' or something like that, and teleported me here while they went to rescue what's-their-names."

"That's all well and good, but I think I…"

I finally lose the ability to keep my eyes open. Everything around me slowly fades away, but not before I catch a brief glimpse of Isla Delirium suddenly going up in flames. At the last moment, I give a final push to stay awake, but my body isn't having it, and I give in to sleep.

 **Control Chamber (Frost)**

Branna, I swear if Xenon somehow doesn't kill you, I will. For the forty-hundredth time, I punch the rock separating me from the fight. Koncordia watches silently next to me, knowing that if she said anything, I just might kill her too. For how smart Branna is, I've been able to read all of her emotions and intentions through the Destiny Bond, and I think she's acting like an idiot.

Sure she accepts the possibility of death, but she doesn't seem to think she'll die, based on some flaw in a logic that would only work if things like luck and chance existed. She believes that she won't die 'because it wouldn't make sense'. I agree that she has come to far to die for no reason, but have no idea why she thinks that she has some strange luck that means she _won't_ die.

This isn't some fairy tale, this is real life with real consequences, and I'm the only one who seems to care. How can someone so level-headed be so damned stupid and reckless. I would understand if she were somehow immortal, but she almost died not even an hour ago and is already risking her life.

Of course, even if I do somehow get past this wall, Koncordia's the only one who can really help me. Rook was knocked out fairly easily when Xenon attacked him, but I still wonder if he was knocked out by the impact against the machines or the attack itself.

"Oh, it's useless," I say. "I haven't even made a dent and-"

The next thing I know, I'm hovering in front of Xenon who has a strange device in his hand. Behind him is a knocked-out Mr. Money, and Aurate, who looks extremely exhausted. He might as well fall asleep, but I have no idea if marshadow is a type of ghost that can.

Fidgeting with the device, Xenon says, "Useful little thing, isn't it? It's a miniature version of a machine we have on the subterranean level, but this one can warp anyone I want to a nearby location."

Ignoring his little showcase, I vanish into a gust of wind and try to shove a shard of ice through his face, but he doesn't even have to react, as it breaks against his forehead like glass. He sighs, then moves his claw toward me faster then I can move, then slams me against the ground.

"Honestly, when I had Iode hunt all of you, I expected resistance. What I didn't expect was how tiresome all of the attempts on my life would become."

He reaches into his satchel and pulls out some sort of multi-tool. From one of the tiny slits in it, he flicks out a large scalpal.

"Where's Branna?!" I yell at him. "If you did anything, I swear-"

"I wouldn't worry about her. I never really was going to kill her," he says. "I sent her away after she made me smile. Can you believe that? If I were you, I would worry about you, living ghost. You possess organ regeneration rivaling that of dragons, and I want to see it for myself. I'm not a liar, this is going to be the worst sensation you have, and ever will feel."

 _What is he-? Oh, that's not right._

With a swift, upward flick of his claw, he makes a cut across my stomach. The feeling that follows isn't pain, but coldness from my blood pouring from the wound. He folds the knife back into the tool and brings out a small needle. He uses it to move my skin to the side to get a better view at my insides. Though I expect it soon, there still isn't any pain, but extreme discomfort in the amount of my internal organs being exposed to open air.

At this point, Xenon doesn't even have to hold me down anymore, as I've lost all strength or will to move. I'm not even thinking about Branna anymore, just the numb, cold feeling that's slowly becoming more painful each second.

Using his claw to part the other side of the incision, he uses the needle to poke at… _something_. For how painful the cut is, it's a thousand times more painful to use the nerves inside my body like this. I don't scream, out of fear that I might mess up something somehow. The pain… that's where my heart is, usually. Getting bolder, Xenon pinches the same spot, not only sending a jolt of pain throughout my chest area, but my entire body.

I forget where I am, or even what's happening. All I feel is like how I would imagine drinking a cocktail made from battery acid and nails would. That, and Xenon's claw scraping the edge of the one organ I can't remember the purpose of. The pancreas, I think? I don't know very much about anatomy, but I think he's damaged a few things.

"Now, this isn't an endurance test as much as it is a… speed test. As long as Branna's alive, I can do anything I want to you, and you shall never die." He pauses. "On second thought, let's make this a speed test and an endurance test."

Out of his satchel, he reveals a small, round container of salt. Then he takes the needle, dips it in the salt, then carelessly stabs the inside of the incision in every direction, puncturing organs and even separating some from others. Finally unable to hold myself back, my body tries to force me to scream in pain, but it's completely nullified by the blood flooding my throat and I end up violently trying to cough it up instead.

"All this blood," he comments. "How I crave the sight of it. Now this… this is what I live for."

He stares down at the pool of blood before him, and gets a glint of something in his eyes. Not bloodlust, or even the scientific curiosity he had before, but a look of pure malicious intent. I know immediately what he wants now. Even if his goal was originally experimentation, all that has been replaced with the drive to harm.

He takes the container of salt and slowly pours it into the open wound. On top of the pain, I feel all the particles, one by one, add a little more burning to the already painful experience. The sheer amount of torment I'm going through right now renews a desire that I've had for years and years. The agony never becomes bearable, but the least I can do is accept it. The only thing I can do now is close my eyes and wish for death.

A sharp _crack_ breaks the air around us, and Xenon is suddenly swept off his feet and thrown back against his own rock wall. My vision is blurry and out of focus, but I recognize the pokemon in front of me as a skarmory. When Xenon looks up, he's even more surprised than I am.

"Iode? What's this about?" he asks.

"It's funny you should ask, really," the skarmory says. "You say you're not a liar. It's become somewhat of a catchphrase of yours by now, and yet recently, it's come to my attention that I've been taught a bogus philosophy that I've determined you don't really believe in."

A lightning bolt chains off of Xenon to the wall, then draws him to it like a magnet. Iode walks over to him and casually rips the small device from his claw and twist one of it's rings. Koncordia appears next to him and tumbles to the ground in surprise. Then, the same happens to me. I end up on the other side of the room where they are, but I'm still unable to do much of anything.

"This here… is Frost, your living ghost. Her organs will regenerate just as you expect them to. However, will the pokemon of Archaea really want to eat the organs of a pokemon that are, let's say, cancerous?"

"You didn't…" Xenon says with wide eyes.

"Ah, but I did. She doesn't believe me, but I already told her I gave her lung cancer, but what she doesn't know, is that I've actually given her several diseases that can't be cured, because well, I invented them. I didn't even bother naming them either."

"Why…?" the nidoking asks in disbelief.

"Because, I thought to myself for a while after a somewhat enlightening conversation with the Relic Master. I asked myself, 'why would someone want to keep someone else weak?' and I came up with two solutions. Either to dispose of them when they aren't needed, but I know you use all your resources to the max, so that wouldn't be it. The other, more plausible thing I came up with was that you were afraid of how powerful I could be."

Another lightning bolt chains from Xenon to to wall on the opposite side of the room. Again, it draws him as if gravity only effected the nidoking from that surface. His body creates a large dent in the wall as it hits it with a _thud_. Iode uses the device to teleport both him and Koncordia in front of Xenon.

"This here, is Koncordia," he says. "She once made Vanish angry enough to give her something called the Ghoul's Curse. Those unlucky enough to have it are both immortal, and infinitely starving. The only way to satiate the hunger is by consuming the flesh of a pokemon that is still alive."

My vision is still too blurry to see what's going on, but the next thing I hear is Xenon's massive body shuffling to get off the ground. At the same time, Koncordia creeps toward me while sniffing the air. She's just close enough for me to see her lick to edge of her mouth, all while showing off her jagged canines.

"Sweet blood… Oh, I want it all," she says. "The heavens say to drink it, and I won't argue."

"No, Koncordia," Iode calls. "Xenon here is made from all the living flesh you could ever want. Make less than a corpse out of him for me, will you?"

"Okay, then."

The sylveon turns her attention to the nidoking, who despite his power against the rest of us, scrambles to get away from her. My vision returns just enough to see a glowing red pike materialize out of nothing and pierce Xenon's thick hide with ease. With her glowing red eyes full of bloodlust, Koncordia forms several more and jams them through his body, one by one. Xenon roars in pain, but is still very much alive.

She comes closer to him, slowly at first, but she quickly loses control. She leaps onto him and bites through his skin. She uses her ribbons to stab at other parts of his body, tearing flesh from bone. His screams are close to what I would have sounded like a moment ago when he was tearing through me.

Iode positions himself intentionally in my view of the massacre. He stares down at me in pity, like I'm not the self-important waste of life. If I were able to do anything, I would've told Koncordia to eat him instead. Lucky he's standing there, though. Now I don't have to watch her eat another pokemon.

"I don't have a thing against you, Frost," he says. "You just happened to be one of the pieces in this little game, that's all. If it helps, you only have lung cancer. I made up those other diseases I mentioned. It was worth the look on his face though."

Iode hums a lullaby while Koncordia continues to feast on Xenon's living flesh. He watches them for a moment, but turns toward the hole in the ceiling.

"Do you smell that?" he asks, mostly to himself. "I thought it was that marshadow's fire, but this smells like… sacred fire?"

Sacred fire? Could that be Vanish? I thought the rest of Team Gold were watching her and Revenge. How could she have escaped? I think back to Rodium, who was passed out drunk the last time I saw him. Metal Claw is powerful, but slow. She must've found some way out of those anti-magic bindings, too. She's always been crafty, but even I didn't think she'd be able to break through them.

"Oh, is that where you've gone, love?" she says telepathically. "Well, you're traitorous ventures have gone on long enough, haven't they? Farewell to you and that deplorable serperior. I always had a feeling she was destined to die by fire anyway."

Iode lifts my bleeding form in his talons and flies off at a speed I can't perceive. Xenon was right about one thing, my organs do regenerate quickly. I already feel the wounds inside of my body and out repairing themselves, but the skarmory's sporadic flight pattern can't be helping the process. Even though it felt like only a few seconds, we come to a sudden stop at what I recognize as the extraction chamber.

"It's no good," he says. "All exits have caved in. Oh, I can just use-"

He sifts through his treasure bag, but becomes frantic.

"It's not here. I could've teleported both of us out of here with that compass, but it looks like I dropped it somewhere."

Well, this whole thing sucks. For how much I hate everyone who's a part of Team Gamma, I don't think he was lying when he said Branna was fine, so I know I won't die, but now I might have to regenerate myself from a little more than dust when this whole place burns to the ground.

 _What a rotten load of tripe, if only I could die._

 **Hello everyone, this chapter is actually part one of two. I had to cut the chapter in half after it got too long, but I'll upload the second part soon. Though, it isn't quite finished yet. Anyways, I'd like to thank RuGuard and RodiumTech for feedback and ideas.**

 _-V. Locke_


	15. Chapter 15: Defy The Legends

**Tragic Sound**

While the sacred fire burns through Isla Delirium, metal and all, the pokemon below the surface of the ocean are mostly unharmed. In the shallow waters, a milotic sits coiled on the limestone seafloor. She contemplates the scene above her. The fire on the island, and the ashes that drift overhead through the air, and into the ocean.

She remembers who's fortress it is. Xenon tried to capture her sometime ago, but like all the greedy pokemon after her rare, pale skin, and her yellow tail, she eluded him. Greedy inlanders. Always trying to take things that don't belong to them.

She's old enough even, to remember the Twisted Craigs gold rush. Well, there's no gold there anymore, but there was. Pokemon from the neighboring continent of Atmos came and stripped the land for all it had. Goldmine Village is still a prospering town full of wealth, but they haven't had a digging expedition in over a hundred and thirty years.

"Su?"

Fidgeting impatiently next to the milotic is a floatzel. The two of them come here often to meditate, but he can never seem to stay still or quiet for very long. He swims around the milotic in a circle, trying to get her attention.

"What's the matter, Fuego?"

The floatzel stops in front of her with his arms crossed.

"Well, the island's being burned, but we're just staring at it."

She looks at him, not entirely sure what his point is. What should she care as long as the ocean's not on fire. Is that what he's afraid of?

"Well," Su says. "There's a dungeon further down the reef if you're looking to hide."

"No, not that. I mean why aren't we helping them?"

Somewhat surprised, Su gives him a look. The thought of helping the inlanders had never crossed her mind. They've always looked out for themselves, and likely wouldn't accept her help if she offered. Besides, inlanders have never understood seafarers generosity. It's in their nature to help each other, but only in the ocean.

Of course, she and Fuego are able to traverse the land and sea, but that's only made her distrust of inlanders stronger. Everyone in the area, whether from Isla Delirium or End Of… Ridge, is a cutthroat backstabbing scoundrel. Even in the rest of Archaea, she's met the self important denizens of Steel City. Technically, they're what's known in Archaea as machinists, not inlanders, but there's little difference between the two.

"Fuego, that's Xenon's fortress if you remember," she says.

"Su… we used to save pokemon. I miss that."

Su thinks to herself. Between his pleading stare and the ashes tainting the water with a dirty murk, she finds it hard to argue with him. She can't put out the fire, but she knows that the base has undersea rooms she could possibly enter from. She'll just try her best to stay away from the witchdoctor Kala's room.

"Fine," Su says. "Gather the others. I suppose there might be other pokemon in there that aren't Team Gamma."

 **Control Chamber, Isla Delirium (Frost)**

"Have you found your little gizmo yet?" I ask, watching Iode bolt rapidly around the room. He's trying to find something he calls a 'compass', yet the device I saw before was definitely not a navigational device. At least, it isn't for sea travel.

"You're feeling fine by now, I'd wager," he says. "Why don't you help me look for it?!"

"Well, I don't know," I say with a sly smile. "Do you think if my entire body gets burnt, I'll be cured of cancer?"

"You'll come back, Frost, I won't!" He yells in exasperation.

The funny thing is, I've seen it this entire time. He's only missing it, because he's flying around at such high speeds, he's probably experiencing motion blur. I would bet all the money I have, if I have any, that if he stopped, he would see it instantly. So far, the fire has only collapsed the top floor, so I mess with him for a little longer.

"Stop this foolery and face me," Rook says. Despite being knocked out cold, he doesn't seem to have any sort of injury. He stands in a battle-ready stance, but Iode isn't having it. He electrocutes the floor beneath Rook, magnetizing his metal body down.

"Insolent-! How dare you deny me a duel."

I turn to Koncordia, who's pacing around with blood dripping from her mouth. She tried to wake Mr. Money up a few minutes ago, but he'll most likely bleed out. This is where I'm left with a choice. Either I could let the pokemon who's caused the last fifteen years of my life to be a living hell die, or I could save him.

Even a few hours ago, that would've been a difficult choice to make. While I'm uncertain of my purpose, I'm sure that saving him is the obvious choice. Despite how difficult she's been, I know Branna would think this is a step toward my redemption. Unfortunately, I never took the time to learn any kind of healing magic, so I have no idea what to do.

"Aurate?"

The marshadow levitates into the air and stretches. Why he feels the need to do that even though he doesn't have bones is beyond me. He does a dramatic twirl, then lands on the ground with a bow.

"Are you done?" I ask.

"Yeah, what can I do for ya?"

"Do you know any healing magic?"

He shakes his head. If I can't find a way to heal Mr. Money, what can I do? There's not much here that I can stop the bleeding with, and trying to cauterize a neck wound without any sort of experience is probably not a good idea. Maybe I could freeze it? I don't know what kind of effect that would have on him either.

"Look 'ere, this is what I'll do," Aurate says. His hand burns with a tiny green flame as he puts it up to Mr. Money's throat. I don't look, but I can hear the distinct sizzling sound of burning flesh. I can also smell it, for that matter.

"Not 'ealed, but I stopped the bleeding for now."

"Alright," Iode says. He's finally stopped, and holding the compass awkwardly in his talons. He looks around the room, mostly in disgust. Near where Mr. Money and Aurate are is the corpse that used to be Xenon. Tiny insects and the familiar scent of rotting corpses has already overtaken his body. Some part of me wonders why he didn't fight back against Koncordia. He's obviously stronger than I am, yet Koncordia is afraid of _me_.

"Some of you," Iode announces. "Are lucky. You would be a pile of smoldering corpses, but perhaps another day. Today, you make way for those of us with real significance."

He twists several rings on the compass. Without any sort of sound, Mr. Money, Rook, and Koncordia vanish from the room, leaving only Iode, Aurate, and me. The skarmory takes one last look at his team leader and sighs.

"That odor suits you, Xenon. You always talked about feeding the starving pokemon throughout the region. Funny how, in the end, your body served to feed the most ravenous pokemon in all Archaea."

He makes a motion for us to follow him, but then bolts away in a crackle of lightning. Aurate vanishes with a puff of smoke. I imagine they both know where they're going, but both of them have probably been here for a while. I don't have a clue what I'm doing, but I guess I'll look around.

"What am I doing?" I ask myself.

I only came here because Branna cared about rescuing some pokemon I barely know, but if Xenon teleported her to safety then there's no reason to stay. Come to think of it, why is Iode staying? I thought he would want to leave as soon as he found his little trinket. Well, without that compass, there's no other way out. The upper level is gone, and I don't know of any outlet to the water.

"Might as well go, I suppose," I say. "But somebody owes me something after all this, I don't care who."

 **Control Chamber Operation Room**

 _Oh great, they just had to go and ditch me didn't they?_

Serves me right, I suppose. I haven't necessarily made an effort to be friends with Iode, or Aurate for that matter. That's only because Team Gamma, I don't care who specifically or why, almost killed the only person I can call a friend. He'll have to forgive me for not forgiving him if he wants to work with me. As it stands now, I don't think either of them do.

Aurate probably did want to work together at some point, but I guess my outburst earlier is what changed his mind. I wish I hadn't done that. It's like Branna said, we're going to travel and meet new pokemon along the way, but there's no point if I alienate everyone I come across. My temper is the problem, but that just makes me angrier.

"Oh wondrous thing, this is. An unfortunate thing, Barium, that Xenon cannot see it. Isn't that right? But he has been cured of that dreadful thing, the mortal curse."

In a huge room, Caesium sits in front of two large operating tables. Ember and a sylveon lay bound on their side to each of them. The parasect acknowledges me, but doesn't pay me any real attention. He's too focused on whatever this 'wondrous thing' is. I cringe slightly when I realize that Roselyn's internal organs are just as exposed as mine were not to long ago.

As a living ghost, I have all the benefits of not being able to die so long as I'm remembered, but at the same time, I can still feel sickness. Nausea builds up in some pit in my stomach to the point where I'm effectively paralyzed.

 _What's wrong with me? Blood and death is the identity of End Of… Ridge, so why can't I stand the sight of it now?_

It just doesn't make sense. Not just me, but any common pokemon of Archaea is used to it. Pokemon here kill each other so often just to add one or two weeks to their sad little lives. It's not the most pleasant thing to think about, but it's the way things are. Until now, I had been desensitized to it.

"What does she feel, Barium, do you think?," Caesium says. "The invisible scar is a dreadful thing, it is. Left by Xenon. Your physical ailments heal, they do, but memories and experiences are forever."

What is he talking about, trauma? There's no way that's it, I've been through worse. In fact, just yesterday, Metal Claw impaled me on a bunch of spikes and I didn't think anything of it. Whatever this is, it's not that.

"Deny this thing, sufferer, but Barium knows all. He knows your fear. That's right, you fear and you suffer from your memory. The thing that has happened to you, yes, but also of the ghoul."

The ghoul? Who is he talking about?

"The sickly one, that suffers more than you or I. A strange thing, a monster in a flesh vessel. She craves only the only flesh that brings life to her own. She will be ours in time, Barium."

"Alright," I say. "Cut the crap. Who do you keep talking to? You and me are the only ones here besides Ember and that sylveon."

Almost as soon as I stop talking, a presence fills my mind and brings along with it an aura of dread. I know this can't be that timid little parasect, but at the same time, I can't detect anyone else that I can't see already. My eyes are drawn to the strange purple fungus on Caesium's back. They glow with a faint bluish luminance to them like stars in a cold winter.

"Terrible thing you did. Barium loathes to be ignored."

It's said that if a pokemon were to encounter some sort of celestial being, they would not be able to comprehend or handle the infinite knowledge of the world beyond, or it's creation. This feels something like that. My mind, my thoughts and memories are all synonymous with the being called Barium. Even more, no feeling, emotion, drive, or dream I have escapes this presence.

If I ever thought that Sepullen was invasive, this is so much worse. Whether this being is a pokemon or not, they now know enough about me to become me. There would be no difference if Barium and I went on as the same pokemon, living out the rest of our lives as one. I almost feel… like Barium is me.

This invasion reminds me of my current, individual thought. Barium knows it too, but it's like he's trying to eject this thought from my psyche. The thought is this; I like my privacy. That privacy has been violated countless times by Sepullen, Aurate, and now, whatever Barium is. I have tried time and time again to control my anger to make Branna happy, but this is my limit.

"Caesium," I demand. "What is Barium?"

"Oh…" he says in excitement. "The heavens gave this wondrous thing to me. He is friend to me, but to others, he is fear."

The heavens? I swear I've heard that somewhere. I think Koncordia said something like that at some point, but I'm not sure. It doesn't matter. Those mushrooms on Caesium's back have been emitting a faint purple fume, so I'm starting to wonder if Barium is real, or a hallucination.

"You aren't afraid of me, or even mortified by the gore before you. What in all of creation is the reason for that, I wonder?"

This voice isn't audible like Caesium and I. It has the same tone and lack of an echo that Sepullen's voice has. Something is talking to me telepathically, but I still don't detect anyone else. I'm not stupid. This means that Barium is sentient, but I still want to know why he seems to be related to Caesium's fungus.

"You don't seem to be blind. What you wish to know is right in front of you."

"Let me guess," I say. "You're a symbiote."  
"Right, and of machine origin as well."

What machine symbiotes do I know? Ferrothorn and ferroseed are the first pokemon that come to mind, but this pokemon takes the appearance of fungus, so that's not it. The heavens… so maybe a legendary pokemon? Dialga resembles machinery, but has no need for symbiotic behaviour.

"I am Genesect, from the same species that came to this planet some time ago in the form of Deoxys and his champions."

"Genesect, huh?" I say. "What are you doing in this lowlife."

"I have no other choice. My physical form no longer exists, so I'm trapped here until another opportunity arises."

I try to look at Roselyn again, just to see if it's possible for me to free them, but the nausea returns, and so I look away. Barium withdraws himself from my mind, but I still feel him lingering nearby. It feels like he's reluctant to fight me, but we both know we have to. I don't imagine Barium, even as Genesect, can fight me in his current incarnation.

"You can't save them," he says. "You can't even look at them. What will you do?"

I don't know what I'll do, and neither does he. We've reached stalemate. Even Caesium doesn't seem to know what to do. Other than Ember's earthquake snores, the room is silent. Apparently losing interest, Caesium turns back to his subjects.

"Oh wondrous thing, reveal yourself to me," he says. "Or I'll rip through your living vessel and its pathetic insides."

There's something I wonder. If Ember and the sylveon were brought here for their regenerative ability, then what gives the sylveon regeneration? Ember is a salamence, and all dragons have some regeneration, but sylveon don't as far as I'm aware. Caesium said living vessel, so that makes me think she could be an Agent of Spirits.

Agents of Spirits are pokemon chosen by legendaries to do their bidding around normal pokemon. It seems strange, but it's not like the sea goddess Tapu Fini can just stroll through a pokemon settlement and not expect overwhelming attention. That crap would get on my nerves too.

Along with being chosen, an Agent will also receive power from a legendary. Sometimes, a pokemon receives so much power that they might as well be a legendary themselves. In my opinion, I don't think any pokemon should be that powerful, especially after seeing what just a little bit of power did to Vanish.

By definition, Caesium would be an Agent of Spirit, but Barium's power is so little right now that he probably doesn't have that much to share. I suppose that's why he prefers to use fear tactics instead, but obviously it doesn't work on everyone.

In any case, I'm starting to suspect that whoever Caesium was talking to is a symbiotic legendary like Barium. Who could it be? There's no one that I can think of, but if they're just being harvested for regeneration purposes then they can't be that dangerous, can they?

Wait, if he removes the cause of regeneration, then the sylveon will be useless. Ember can already regenerate, so they wouldn't put the symbiote in him for that. Unless… the symbiote is a powerful one. That would mean that he's not trying to create a farmable subject, but a force to be reckoned with.

I hear the gooey tear of flesh, then something red and blue flies past my head and onto the ground. The thing is a tiny, four legged alien creature made from a fluid, rubber-like substance. It scurries across the ground as Caesium tries to catch it. It doesn't make it that far, before the parasect stabs it through the middle with one of his thick limbs.

"Marvelous thing, but it can't escape me," he says.

 _Thud._ Out of nowhere, our attention is drawn to a small purple pokemon who falls from somewhere and lands between me and Caesium. I stare for a moment, before finally recognizing its big emerald eyes.

"Venomitus?" I ask.

He picks himself up off the ground and looks around. Without saying anything, he runs over to Caesium and grabs the creature from him. He traps the thing tightly in his claws while trying to push Caesium away. The two of them struggle against one another, fighting for control of the symbiote

I don't really do anything at first except wonder how he got here in the first place, and what is actually happening. There's nothing above us, so I'm trying to figure out where exactly he fell from. The whole thing doesn't register for me until Venomitus, in his scuffle, loses his grip on the small creature and lets it fall back to the ground.

It quickly climbs onto the operating table and burrows its way into Ember's skin. It has a hard time getting through, but does it quickly enough to where neither Venomitus nor I can reach it in time. He and I look on in horror as thick red and blue veins spread throughout the dragon's body.

"If it has control of him, there's no saying what it'll do now."

"No," Venomitus says. "Ember himself is significantly more horrifying than that creature! We must leave, immediately!"

We turn toward the exit, but find that it isn't there anymore. In its place is the same metal walls that make up the rest of the room. It's not even hidden by a mechanism, like it was never there to begin with. I realize that the sylveon isn't in the room anymore either. Something isn't right, but I can't tell what.

"What is this?" Barium asks. "Why isn't Deoxys attaching itself to the subject's mind?"

Deoxys?! If I would've figured that out sooner, this wouldn't have happened. No, if I wasn't so damn afraid of a little blood like a useless child, I could've stopped that stupid little insect sooner and none of this would be happening. Nothing ever goes the way I want, does it? I'm tired of all this useless noise, and like everything else, it's just making me angry.

For the first time since she was sent away by Xenon, I feel Branna through the Destiny Bond. She's sleeping soundly somewhere, dreaming about homemade pecha jam on toast. I can somewhat relax, knowing she's safe after all she's been through. At that though, I feel a burning, passionate rage at Team Gamma and what they put her through.

Momentarily, I forget about Ember or Deoxys. I only think of the worst possible thing I can do to Caesium. The one thing that Vanish and I have done to the denizens of our town for countless years. With a flick of my hand, I create a sheet of Nevermeltice on a small patch of ground, then ambue most of my magical reserve into it. Mist flows from the spell to the corners of the room.

"Venomitus," I say. "I think you know what this is, don't do anything stupid."

I levitate over to the pathetic little insect and hold him against the ground. He struggles and writhes, and for a brief second, I understand why Xenon took so much joy in cutting me up. Well actually, I've understood the basic principle of it for a long time; it feels so good to take your anger out on something you hate.

 _I know I'm supposed to be on a path to redemption, but this is something I have to do._ I slam Caesium on the ground repeatedly, then drag him across the room and throw him into the wall. He has the same look on his face that he had back in the extraction chamber after he watched me nearly kill Iode.

I grab him one last time and say, "You're one of the many pathetic losers that ruined my day, but you happen to be the only one here, so do me a favor and say my name."

"Wh-what?"

I exhale in annoyance and disappointment.

"Let me tell you a story," I say. "There once was a froslass who lived by the sea. She was living life to the best she could in a town full of scumbags. Those scumbags quickly learned that when she said something, they better damn well remember it. That's why when I tell you something, _don't make me fucking repeat myself!_ "

"Yes, yes! Deepest apologies," he pleads. "Frost is your name. Just don't kill us, please."

I drop him and smile. His miserable, timid face looks up at me. Despite his intelligence, he has a sense of innocence. That's what's making me enjoy this moment all the more.

"Good," I say. "I don't need to kill you, you've done that part for me. That spell over there is a mini veil. Over the course of about ten years, you will freeze and rot away into nothing. The best part? You will be awake for all of it."

The look on his face is priceless as he grows more terrified when ice starts to form on the surface of his skin. He frantically scratches at it, but that only seems to make it spread faster. In only a few seconds, his body has completely solidified, freezing that same look of terror permanently.

"A bit much, don't you think?" Venomitus asks.

"No," I say. "Not really. He got what he deserved. That's all that matters."

"Heh, so you want revenge, not justice then?"

"Justice?" I spit. "It's all tripe. Bad karma is all there is. Do good, bad things happen to you. Do bad, well, worse things happen to you."

"Touche."

"Just look at Branna," I say. "She's spent her entire life being considerate and supportive of everyone around her, but what's the payoff? Did she deserve to be nearly poisoned to death, or to have me of all pokemon as her friend? No, but what does it matter?"

" _It doesn't, ghost. If there is only bad karma as you say, then this is your reckoning. You and the little imp next to you._ "

What… is this. It's a very powerful voice, and one I don't recognize. Despite my constant, stubborn nature, I feel like I should kneel. The voice itself feels like it could rip the very fabric of the universe apart if it wanted to.

"Who are you?" I ask, but with less confidence then I would've liked.

" _So you would like to know the name of your destroyer? Quite common for the denizens of this dimension. I am Palkia, and Ember is my emissary, my Agent. You stood by and watched Deoxys taint his divine form. That is why this is your reckoning."_

What is he talking about? I couldn't have done anything about that. I was… What was I? Hesitant? Afraid? I couldn't stand the sight of that sylveons insides being exposed like that. For the first time in my undeath, I actually felt repulsed by the sight of gore, but there's nothing I can do about that. So why…?

"Reckoning?" Venomitus says with a smirk. "Quite frightening when you put it that way, but you won't do it… coward."

Honestly, if this really is Palkia, then it wouldn't be a shocker if they're just as baffled as I am. In this scenario, how is the best way to get out of it by challenging the legendary that controls space? Now that I think of it, it was most likely Palkia who made the door disappear.

" _Is that you, Venomitus? Do you think that just because you're Emerald's memory means I can't touch you?"_

"Indeed," he says. "Likely, you'll just have Ember do it for you."

Can't he see he isn't helping? I know that from the bottom of her heart, Branna hates the legendaries, but she still fears them. Venomitus is talking to the pokemon that could probably think us out of existence in the same way he talks to the Relic Master in their obnoxious arguments.

" _Let me tell you this; you are not going to die. Us greater beings have been keeping an eye on four of you. In your future, you will experience much more suffering then any other pokemon who has lived, or ever will. Then, Venomitus, you will die alone. Frost, you will never die, but you will lose everything that makes your miserable life worth anything._ "

I search for the origin of his voice, seeing if I can at least try to pummel his stupid face in. I'm tired of sitting here, listening to him talk like he's the one that's going to decide how my life is going to play out. I'm starting to see Venomitus' thought process. They sit up on whatever cloud they live on, thinking they can play with the things on this planet like clockwork toys. If only I could be that powerful for one day. Not to lash out at them in senseless anger like I would be driven to, but to show them how their creations feel.

" _Your dreaming friend, Branna? She will be stripped of all that makes her who she is. Her modesty, her sacrifice, it will all be taken from her and she will be driven only by sorrow and revenge. And the fool who calls himself Relic Master will feel the worst wrath from yours truly. He has killed too many of us and our Agents to let die in peace._ "

Now I know he's just talking trash. There's no way Branna would even end up like that. I don't care what he says about me at this point, but no legendary, immortal, or mortal will ever tell me that Branna can be driven by something as petty as revenge. Even if everyone else in the world died right now, I still don't think that would break her will.

"Palkia," I finally have the courage to say. "I can't see you, or fight you, but if you say another piece of garbage about Branna, I will pull you out of whatever of heaven you come from and bury you so far in the ground, Arceus wouldn't bother to dirty herself trying to look for you."

" _I can see why she hates all of you so deeply. You have no loyalty, devotion, or fear for the heavens. If the day does come, Frost, that you are as powerful as me, then I and my brothers will bow to you. Until then, you are on this island with water below you and fire above. Let me add an element to this mixture of chaos._ "

With a jolt of divine energy, ember opens his eyes. In that same instant, everything is gone. Venomitus, myself, and even the room we were in only a millisecond before. The presence of Barium and Palkia are gone.

 _What the…?_

Another, much darker presence is here. In fact, I think it was here the entire time, I just hadn't noticed it. The energy it gives off is very similar to Venomitus, and yet somehow, a femenine to his masculine; a perfect counterpart.

"Don't think, just rest. You can for now, because I… I am not malevolent, but a comforting dark. Compared to me, death is only the next best thing. Let me deal with the agent of chaos, the Star Eater."

 **Witchdoctor's Chamber (Sepullen)**

For the first time in my existence, I'm not fighting my opponent to win. I find myself unable to match Kala in any category of battle. She's faster, stronger, and has a magical reserve that dwarfs that of even Frost or Vanish. The only thing a can do is defend, but I know that my body will give out soon. I will break before I surrender, so what I choose to do will be significant.

 _Quickly, Venomitus. I don't have the power to do this any longer._

"Hmm," Kala says while she waits for me to charge a solar beam. "Your fighting style is remarkably similar to… what's that little scholar's name? Nocturan?"

For all who think me arrogant, I believe I have found the pinnacle of egotism. Kala is watching me as I absorb any energy I can get from my surroundings in preparation for a final attack, but she's not making any preparations to counter attack. If she believes she can survive my attack from this range, then executing the attack seems pointless.

"Kala…" I say.

"Yes, little one? Are you giving up already?"

"It's not in my nature to surrender. I will die first."

"Well," she says. "I'm not Jirachi, but release your attack, and I'll grant your wish."

"Kala…"

"Yes, Sepullen?"

It's not as much as I'd hoped for, but it will suffice. Solar energy burns within me to the point where any spectator might expect me to collapse into a star.

"It's not in my nature to lose, either," I say. "Not to Venomitus, and not to you."

She falls into hysterical laughter. The same laughter that I, as a young student, would experience each time I spoke of my ambition. I never was able to learn more than the most basic abilities of my attribute. Supernova remains my only offensive spell, not counting my augmented psychic abilities.

However, while I was never able to learn superior spells, I have spent years perfecting the ones I have. I have augmented my arsenal with the strategies of intimidation and deception, but even more then that, power. If I've learned anything, it's that no matter how strong your opponent, there is always a way to overpower them. Just as water can weave it's way through any structure given the tiniest crack.

"You can't win, little one," she finally says. "But go on, give it your best shot."

I don't know how much more of this mockery I can take. I absorb all the energy into myself to fuel my magic. My next action is a gambit, but it will be my final one. I create countless orbs of unstable energy throughout the room, then I move them all to the glass shield that stands between us and the cold ocean, painting it entirely with orange light.

"What are you…?"

"Kala, I like to consider myself collected, but your mockery is making me feel a kind of rage I haven't felt in a long time. I will do whatever it takes!"

"Unfortunately for you," Kala says. "There's nothing you can do."

"Nonsense, I'll bring this ocean down on us if I have to!"

Before she realizes what's going on, I ignite the orbs and unleash a massive Supernova. It doesn't take long for the glass to break and a torrent of dark ocean water to flood through. It slams into everything in the room with equal force. Her research, the Star Taker Compass, the books and manuscripts on Deoxys. All of it is swept up and scattered. Her and I are both slammed against the inside wall of the base with enough force that my clay exterior cracks.

With psychic force, I create a bubble around me by pushing back against the unimaginable pressure of the ocean. I was hoping this stunt would buy me some time to strategize, but Kala, as a creature of the ocean, easily recovers and jets toward me. I feel myself weakening as my consciousness leaves me.

" _Su, I found one, but where did the witchdoctor go?"_

 **Su and the idea of Fuego belong to RuGuard.**


	16. Chapter 16: The Star Eater

**? (Venomitus)**

Perhaps I misspoke. Maybe everyone was supposed to die, and I only had the options of going with my beloved, or coming here to watch everyone die. What if, I dare say, there is no walking off the path of fate. Some say that fate will always happen, but there are many ways to get there. So, I suppose there is no point in making your own path if the end result is the same. I've denied it many times, but maybe Sepullen was right.

" _Venomitus, from birth a mortal pokemon has the potential to become anything it dreams. It's a false luxury that they have more freedom then immortals, who have a certain duty to perpetuate the universe as they see fit. Tell me, what does freedom mean, when all roads lead to death?"_

I'm still here, but I don't feel any life around me. My body is piecing itself back together, one molecule at a time. All I remember is Ember waking up, then everything being ripped apart at a subatomic level. Frost should be regenerating, but I can't sense her either.

As I finish regenerating, I see my surroundings. It's noon, and I think I'm still on Isla Delirium, yet there's no machinery, metal, or any evidence there ever was a fortress here. The volume of the actual island has minimized, as I'm standing in a muddy puddle on a ground that's nearly at sea level.

"Oh Venomitus, you don't believe that do you?"

"Pardon?" I say as I turn around to greet a pokemon that I can neither sense, nor smell. To my surprise, it's a very familiar gardevoir. The sudden, shocking sight of her is so alluring, I almost forget to wait for a response. Her intimidating, but imposing posture is enough to make me want to be nearer to her.

"All roads don't lead to death," she says, smiling. "But you already knew that, didn't you?"

"I believe you," I say. "But how?"

She sits down with her legs crossed, and motions for me to do the same. The ground is muddy and wet, but is surprisingly comfortable to sit on.

"You knew this once," Emerald says. "But I was born in hatred. You could say I was made from it. I have chosen to turn that hatred into passion, and passion into love for the things around me."

She stares off into the ocean. The look in her eyes is one of familiarity. Something about the water reminds her of something similar to home. I can tell she has been to many places, and seen more things than Sepullen or I could dream of, but she doesn't have regrets. I can't help but feel jealous of her for that.

"Life is transmutable, Venomitus. There is a way to turn it into anything you want, not just death. Even death means different things to different pokemon."

I suppose she's right. To some, death is a gift to deliver them from an unfortunate fate. To me, death is a tool to purge those who have lost their way. Those without aim or purpose deserve to die. Call it a mercy kill. However, I can't see the other side of Emerald's point. How can I turn my lifetime of regret into anything else? I know my life can't end in death, but what else can I have when I don't deserve any more than that.

"As a gardevoir," she says. "I can feel your emotions. You think I don't have regrets, but I have only learned to not let them eat away at my soul. You are my greatest love, and my greatest regret. Your death was not my fault, but I'm the only one that will take responsibility for it."

How do I deserve someone like her, either? In her immortality, she's learned how to be humble and generous. As far as I can tell, that doesn't happen very often. I don't care what role she thinks she played in the tragedy that befell me, I already forgive her for it.

"No," she says, averting her eyes to the ground. "You wouldn't forgive me if you knew the nature of your death, or the tragedy that _was_ my fault."

"What do you mean?" I ask.

She takes a deep breath. Something is definitely troubling her, and yet she said just a moment ago that she doesn't let her regrets eat away at her. In her immortality, she's likely had time to deal with them. I wonder if that means that whatever's troubling her happened recently.

"Yes, Venomitus, very recently," she says quietly. "What happened just now was that Ember was granted an alternate form by his patron legendary, which would make him an Agent of Spirits. The agent of Palkia, no less."

"Interesting," I say. "But what does that have to do with you?"

"I…" she starts as she chokes on her own words. "The explosion from that transformation alone was enough to vaporize everything within eight miles of it. While there were mostly ghosts who can regenerate, there were living among them who… no longer are.

Throughout our travels, Sepullen and I have heard tales of the agents, but have mostly ignored them. Most stories tell of their power or how they became agents, but it's hard to give them any credence when there are more stories of Sepullen killing legendaries and agents alike. Of course, I wouldn't know if they're true or not. He leaves me at our home base very frequently to to 'run errands'.

I don't believe it's as simple as that though. If they were just errands, he wouldn't take his most powerful relics with him. He didn't on this little outing only because he didn't expect to face any powerful opponent's. I imagine that from now on, he's going to bring them everywhere. Speaking of my companion…

"My travelling partner, Sepullen, is immortal in terms of life span, but he is not indestructible. Can you feel him anywhere?"

"No…" she says solemnly. "I can feel no one in your recent memory. Rook, Sepullen, Mr. Money, Iode, those two sylveon… they are gone. I couldn't save them."

"...I see," I say, lowering my head. "And what of Frost? We left her and Branna in the craigs, and yet she was right next to me before the transformation. Come to think of it, where is Branna?"

"Frost… is fine," she says. "I put her in a dream world similar to the one you and I met in, but the one I made for her simulates death. Don't let that trouble you, I only gave her what she wants… for now. I will retrieve her when the time is right."

Emerald levitates her own body in the air, then moves herself over to the water. She lightly taps her feet against the water, but doesn't sink below the surface. Any child might fall for the illusion that she's walking on water, but I'm no child. She takes false steps forward and closes her eyes.

"I feel Branna somewhere close, but she is not the same as you left her. She has been corrupted by a memory."

"Strange" I say. " I thought that because we are made of good memories, we lack the ability to possess the living."

"Normally you would be correct," she says. "But the memory appears to be neither hers nor a good one. Hate is a wretched, but power thing. If it is not removed from her, she will lose everything that makes her who she is. From what I've gathered from Frost and your memory, she is very determined and full of love."

I don't know what memories she could have gotten from me about Branna. Her and I haven't interacted much since she joined us. From what I can tell, she's at least more of a decent pokemon then Sepullen, me, or any pokemon that lives in End Of… Ridge. Still, that certainly isn't enough information to go off of, is it?

"Be weary, Venomitus," Emerald warns abruptly. "A powerful energy draws near."

She's barely given a chance to finish her warning when an unknown assailant rockets toward her from above with blinding speed. With a quick movement of her wrist, she effortlessly blocks them with a faint purple barrier. Through the violent clashing of Emerald and his energy, I see that her opponent is Ember.

His appearance has changed drastically since I last saw him. He still resembles a salamence, but only faintly. His wings and body have changed to a pearly white, and his body is decorated with straight magenta markings like veins. Salamence, and dragons in general, have always been naturally muscular, but the armour plating built along his spine from head to tail makes him even more so. His bulky shoulders are marked at their center by a pale orange gem.

For the first time while being around her, I start to wonder just how powerful Emerald is. If Ember was powerful enough to destroy this much land and pokemon within a split second, how is Emerald able to defend herself from him so easily.

"' _Love dies if there's no one left to love._ ' Is that what that old bastard said?" Ember asks. "Well I'm here keep Palkia's promise. Venomitus will die alone. In order to make that happen, I have to kill you, good stuff."

"Good stuff?" Emerald asks.

"Don't play dumb," he says. "You know Arceus probably created your entire species to be eye candy for the rest of us."

"Oh, Ember. Your naivete does nothing to insult me. It wasn't Arceus or any of the legendaries that created me. In fact, it was you. Well, you along with every other hateful pokemon on this planet."

He disengages her, but only for a split second. He brings one of his massive wings down on her as they harden into solid steel.

"Did you get a lobotomy recently, because it sounds like you're talking nonsense. Damn women."

"Do you remember," she starts. She doesn't even bother to block his attack with a barrier. Instead, she catches it in the palm of her hand, then uses his own momentum to slam him to the ground.

"It was twenty-six years ago that I rematerialized on this planet after thousands of restless, aimless years. Pokemon, especially the denizens of Archaea were so filled with thoughts of anger, fear, and war, that their hatred turned me into something that almost destroyed the world. I was eventually accepted by a kind, young soul, but I still am made from and harbor the power of Dark Matter."

In an instant, I remember a conversation Sepullen and I had a long time ago. When I first awoke as a ghost with no memory, it was him who found me and taught me the ins and outs of this continent. He told me that at the time, the world was recovering from a catastrophe that involved something called Dark Matter. Few knew exactly what it was, they just knew that it almost destroyed the world a year before.

Even Sepullen, for how composed and confident he is, would barely say anything about it. If what Emerald says is true, which I believe it to be, then I'm witnessing a battle between the Agent of Palkia and the incarnation of Dark Matter. I have no place in this fight, even as a bystander. Sepullen has tried frivolously to train me how to fight, but I'm more of an explorer than anything else.

While Ember's head is half buried in the dirt, Emerald levitates over him and rolls him over. Now facing up at her, he tries to discharge sacred fire from his maw. The flames barely leave his jaw, when a purple barrier is generated around his body from head to tail. All he succeeds in doing is scorching himself from the inside out.

"Do you see?" Emerald asks. "Understand that your hate alone grants me enough power to nullify your power, and your pride as a dragon."

"Alright," Ember says, catching his breath. "While the view from down here is nice, I'm tired of listening to your talk of urban legends and power that doesn't exist."

The orange gem on his left shoulder glows, he then makes a slashing motion at the air with his claw. The motion sends a white hot blade through the air that shatters the barrier and cuts through the air astonishing speed. Emerald barely manages to avoid it, and recoils in shock is it flies just in front of her face.

Taking her surprise as an opportunity, Ember moves his tail like a whip and slams it into her back. The attack sends her through the air toward me, but with more momentum then I can conceivably catch her with. Of course, I try anyway. I leap into the air and wrap my arms around her waist. With my back facing our trajectory, I'm smashed between Emerald and a limestone cliff face.

I toss her aside just in time for her to avoid Ember's steel wing. Unfortunately, his wing impacts me instead with enough force to decapitate me were I not a ghost. My vision is blocked by the black regeneration smoke coming from my neck and shoulders, but not enough to block me from seeing Ember's scowl of fury and annoyance.

"Damn it! I will get to you after I dye the ocean red with the wench's blood. Till then, wait your turn!"

Ghosts don't feel pain like the living do. Instead, it's a sensation comparable to the numbness of electric shock. It doesn't bother me as much as it used to, but something about the energy coming off of Ember is making it feel more like the dryness of burning, but without the pain. Even though the sharp edge of his wing is halted, it's still eating away at my wound faster than the wound can close.

"Venomitus, be careful," Emerald calls from behind Ember. "His body is cloaked in rending energy. While it's touching you, it nullifies any ability you have that stems from magical energy."

While that confirms that ghostly regeneration is magical, it serves no purpose as anything other than a useless bit of trivia. I don't know any spells, or even have the capacity to use any if I wanted to learn. I have a kind of sixth sense that allows me to detect and identify different types of energy, but I don't believe it has anything to do with magic.

As far as I'm concerned, I don't have anything to worry about. Ember can't kill me unless he manages to kill Emerald, which despite his power, I doubt is possible. One thing I've learned from Sepullen is that if you can't win conventionally, use whatever means you have at your disposal.

What means do I have? I can't outclass him, so my two options are to manipulate him, or use my surroundings. My only intention is to distract him long enough for Emerald to recover. If I don't do something soon, he's going to drop me and pursue her. If only I could see her…

"Fret not, Venomitus," Emerald says. She levitates in the air only a few feet behind Ember. It doesn't look like she's preparing to attack him, or is even prepared to counter him should he attack. "We are evenly matched, Ember and I, but I can turn the tides for us as easily as the tide itself will corrode what remains of Isla Delirium to dust."

Ember releases me and tries to whip around to grab Emerald with his claw, but she quickly teleports above him and grabs me by the arm. In an instant, I find myself about a mile above the ocean's surface. Below us, Ember looks around frantically.

"Wench!" he shouts. "Running away isn't going to help you! Not for long!"

Even though I can't die, I don't like that the only thing keeping me from plummeting toward him is my grip on Emerald's relatively small hands. She seems to know that, and lifts me up to her back. I wrap my arms around her neck, but try my best not to choke her.

"You could say that he and I are on par with one another, but as are rock, paper, and scissors," she explains. "For most dragons, their body must be kept above a certain temperature. If something cold so much as contacts their scales, any pain and injuries suffered will simultaneously amplify damage and slow their regeneration."

Without the specifics, it's elementary knowledge that dragons are particularly weak to ice. The way she's describing it, however, sounds more like she's trying to kill Ember than subdue him. This is conflicting for me. Team Gold sought to raise Archaea's moral standard when they came here from the continent to the south known as Poales.

Among them, Ember isn't the most morally upright, but Mr. Money sees good in him. I can only imagine what it would do to him if Ember died. I may not agree with it, but he has found his purpose as an Agent of Spirits. That alone means he doesn't deserve to die.

As I ponder this, I realize that something isn't sitting right with me. I love Emerald with all my heart, but I can't imagine why she wants to kill him. It doesn't seem like her somehow.

"Venomitus…" she starts. "Before you lost your memory, you would understand. You want to protect his and Team Gold's ideals, but consider this; he never stopped to consider ours. Death means the end for me, and I'm terrified of it, but the thought of you dying alone…"

For the first time since her and Ember engaged in combat, I feel a strange energy being released from her in pulses. The pulses synchronize perfectly with her slowly beating heart. The energy isn't quite the same as what's generated by dark-types. It's much darker, and made from raw unimpeded emotion. I'm not a gardevoir, so I can't detect what emotion it is by sense, but it doesn't take a genius to conclude that it's hate.

"Purpose alone doesn't give you right enough to live," she says. "Stepping on others in your life's path, hindering others from their potential, goal, and opportunity? Worse than death, those few deserve to be hated till the end of time as they plead to Arceus herself that they did nothing wrong."

With a flick of her wrist, she creates a spark of light in the air in front of us. At first, the light flows gently from a single point in the form of yellow bubbles. They increase in frequency in size until they begin to take the form of a pokemon. For some reason, that pokemon is humming a song, like an old sailor's tune.

"Emerald… Venomitus…" they say, like they just woke up from a restful sleep. "That was damn good."

"I know it's earlier than expected," Emerald says. "But I need your assistance with something."

The light dies down, revealing Frost. Even with the magnitude of knowledge I possess, I can't tell what's changed about her, but I know she has changed. It's the same sort of feeling that I get from being around Ember. In a way, it feels like she's been given Emerald's energy and power. I don't know how that's possible, unless…

"Frost," Emerald starts. "As the incarnation of Dark Matter, I can choose an agent like any legendary. With consent, I would like you to be mine, if only temporary."

Frost looks at me, then at her. She notices Ember below us, who is burning everything in sight with Sacred Fire. He hasn't noticed us, but I'm not certain for how long that will last. Frost is expressionless, but she appears to be thinking very deeply about something.

"Hell yeah," she says finally. "If I could spend the rest of my life in that dream and only leave when you needed something from me, that would be…"

Emerald looks at her with a soft smile. I remember Emerald saying that her dreamworld simulates death. Can I pokemon really want to die that badly? Being a pokemon that uses death as a punishment, I can't imagine why someone with as much potential as she has _wants_ to die.

"As much as I would love to give you that," Emerald says. "I believe there are still pokemon in this world that need you. As long as you stay here to remind Branna that she isn't alone on her personal quest, you may rest when she does."

"That's fine," Frost responds. "Now let's defeat the so called 'Stat Eater', and get this trash over with."

 **The chapter got too long again, so I cut it in two. In the meantime, feel free to create characters and send them to me. Team Gold, Aurate, and Emerald belong to RodiumTech. Su, the milotic from the last chapter is RuGuard's, who I would also like to thank for story ideas and input. Rose the sylveon is EonTheZoarark's.**


	17. Chapter 17: Luck and Chance

**Tragic Sound (Sepullen)**

Curses. One loss after another. First a logical loss, then a physical one. In this instance, one might reconsider attaining perfection. For all I know, it might be unattainable. So I don't know everything, but I've accepted that fact. A child gives up, a grieving mortal gives up, but I, Relic Master Sepullen do not give up.

 _Where…?_

It is not possible for me to lose consciousness, but receiving heavy damage puts rifts in my memory. I lost to Kala, but I'm unable to remember anything between then and now. I know that I'm on dry land, half buried in the sand of a beach. It's most likely near the sound, but I could just as easily be on the other side of Archaea.

The damage I sustained is enough to nullify my psychic, magical, and aura abilities. Venomitus knows how much I would kill to have his regeneration. I don't unfortunately, and I was never able to think of a contingency in case something like this ever did happen. That's why the plan has always been to not receive damage in the first place.

Even though he is not an official member of Team Ruin, I let Venomitus carry our treasure bag, only because of his species tendency to value treasures over their own life at times. That bag is virtually indestructible as well, so whatever antics he gets himself into while not under my supervision are of no harm to our valuables.

If he could get close to me with that bag, I could at least regain my aura abilities. It's a useful rumor that I alone have the ability to subconsciously read the minds of living beings around me, but a false one. On my own, I have the ability to read the minds of pokemon with weaker wills, but the relic known as the Psychic Piece grants the ability to automatically pick up the thoughts and memories of any pokemon within twenty-six feet of me, and the ability to detect the aura of pokemon within five-hundred miles.

That relic only has to be in the vicinity of me in order to work, but it would appear that Venomitus isn't close enough. The only thing I have to rely on is my fairly week sight. Without psychic or magical energy, I can't move, and as a claydol I'm unable to hear sound.

I can see that I'm half buried in the sand, which is not a good thing. If I don't remove myself from the sand and water, it will corrode away my clay vessel and serve to make the damage worse. I don't believe in superstition, but a commoner would call me lucky for being unable to feel pain.

The sand in my line of sight remains unchanging, so I resolve to think of a way to regain the ability to move if nothing else. It doesn't take me long to come to a small enlightenment; despite all my power and influence in this world, this is what I am without augmentation. At my core, without magic, relics, or prowess, I am this vessel. Without the ability to serve a purpose, I am worth nothing more than a pebble beneath a traveler's feet.

What does that mean? Without layers of outward things to define a pokemon, who are they? Most of all, how do I know what I am at my core? To others, I am Relic Master Sepullen. I get what I want, I give respect to very few, and appear very powerful and intimidating. However, no one is around to see any of that. When I am alone, who am I?

"A wall, stranger. You are a wall."

 _What? Is there a pokemon there?_

"Why yes, a very curious pokemon."

A milotic moves into my field of view and lowers her head down to my eye level. Her expression and posture suggest that she's very compassionate and generous, but has a streak of cynicism. It's very similar to the way Branna carries herself, but this pokemon seems aged and experienced, whereas Branna still moves with the vitality of a youth.

"You are… an interesting sort," she says. "You seem to have spent years running from your own nature. Right now, you are a wall, but your heart tells me you have the mind of a thief."

A thief? I have been called many things, but I don't recall ever being called a thief. I'm not offended, after all, she's not disrespecting me. She would only offend me if this were a matter of opinion, but somehow I know that it isn't. For some reason, I want to listen to what she has to say. She called me a curious pokemon, but I feel the same way about her. Just what will she say next?

"You are living the thief's dream, to come up with a surefire method to generate fortune for yourself, without having to do very much of the work. You make others believe that you are powerful, when all your power comes from the relics that your friend has tracked down for you. He's the only one that knows you for what you are, yet he stays by your side for a reason I can't fathom."

As it is, I've heard this little song before. Venomitus has told me many times over that he thinks I've lost my way, that somehow I'm different from when we first encountered one another. In reality, I've only evolved. I've only shed the flaws, but kept the traits that have gotten me to where I am. I haven't changed.

"Tell me this… if you haven't changed, then why did you take in your friend all those years ago, and now you treat him like trash?"

This… I don't remember why. At the time, I could tell he wasn't from this world, so I trained him how to survive as a pokemon. The reason for why never occurred to me, even at the time. I did, that's all I know.

"Then again, maybe you haven't changed. Maybe you just need to tear down your wall, and your facade. After all, you've kept him around this long, and even depend on him more than your own team. Come to think of it, you've been nothing but accommodating to that serperior ever since you met her. Why is that? Your soul is that of a thief, but a kind one. You have only hidden it away is all."

 _What is your name, sage?_

"I'm called Su, and you inlander, are Sepullen."

 _If you assist me in recovery, I wish to know more. No matter how I may be, or what the state of my existence is, I only seek to eliminate flaws. If you can help me see into my own soul and do that directly, then so be it._

"Alright," she says. "But only because you are the first inlander to recognize the generous nature of seafarers. There is much rot to be removed from you."

It's at this moment I find myself saying a phrase I haven't spoken genuinely to anyone in years; _deepest gratitude, sage._

"Just Su is fine."

 _Sage Su, then. Titles denote respect, and you have my respect._

"Sage Su it is, then," she says with amusement. "It appears that the tiniest of stains has been removed from your soul."

 **Tragic Sound (Frost)**

I've always believed that having power of any kind was a curse on it's own. Vanish learned powerful magic from a legendary at some point, and that power turned her into what she is. I spent years alongside her as a member of Team Fade, but I swore to myself that I would never be like her. All I wanted was peace and quiet, and she gave that to me for a long time.

Now, I feel differently than I did even hours ago. Power of any kind can be used for good if given to a pokemon with a strong will and good morals. Mr. Money would make a good candidate for an agent in that respect. Hell, Branna could be an agent if she had any respect for legendaries.

For now, I've been made Emerald's agent. It's weird to think about, especially because of the whole 'Dark Matter' thing. There's no doubt that she's telling the truth, though. In the same way that the Frustration technique, or mega-evolution are powered by emotion, the energy coursing through me is pure, passionate hate.

Though, it doesn't seem like any of this is actually Emerald's hate. It feels like she, and by proxy me, is drawing her power from other pokemon. From what I remember about Dark Matter, she would be drawing her power from the entire world, but can that really match an agent of Ember's caliber?

"Ember can't feel aura like we can," Emerald says. "But it is only a matter of time until he realizes where we are. Don't fret, Frost, all of my power is yours, and you _can_ match him."

"Well," I say with a smirk. "Let's roll with advantage while we still can."

"Wait," Emerald says. "Before you fight, I must ask you not to use any of my abilities. I have spent hundreds of years learning to control them, but you are prone to anger. You would be consumed by your rage if you used Dark Matter to fight."

"Can do. He's a dragon. I'll just pummel his face in with ice magic."

As it stands now, I already feel like I might be consumed by without even doing anything. I know I seem very eager to fight on the outside, but I'm trying to let myself get used to it for as long as I can. All the hatred, sadness, and rage from every pokemon in the world is very intoxicating.

Ember is not going to be easy. I have the elemental advantage, but he can use sacred fire to melt it. With that and having to resist Dark Matter, I'm not sure if I can beat him. I know that like Lyle was when he was alive, battles don't make me angry, but focused. They're one of the only scenarios where I can truly relax. If I focus solely on Ember as my opponent, I know I can win.

"Frost," Emerald says. "You may not enjoy this, but I'm sending Venomitus down there with you. I will be here focusing my power into you."

"I won't be worth anything in this fight, Emerald. Even you know that," Venomitus says.

"Do what she says," I command. "I want to get this tripe over with."

Reluctantly, he jumps over Emerald's shoulder to me. As he does so, he nearly misses me entirely, but manages to hook his claws into my side. Somehow, the blood that flows from the wound doesn't bother me as much as Rose's blood earlier. I help Venomitus up until he's hugging my neck the same way he was with Emerald.

There's no way he would know, but I didn't agree to bring him because I think he can help me. Honestly, in reuniting with Branna, I've realized that having a friend is the best thing I can have. If there's even a small chance I can make a new one, I have to take it. I think Emerald knows that too.

"Alright," I say with a deep breath. "Here we go."

Before I attack Ember, I want to test the waters a little bit. With immense energy flowing through me, I pour it into the atmosphere and project my own element. Thick silver clouds roll over the sky, barely shrouding the morning sun. I don't even flinch when a six centimeter long hailstone pierces through the air a grazes my cheek.

Below us, Ember looks at the sky in comical confusion. By the time he would see us, I'm already gone. Venomitus hangs onto me surprisingly easily as I fly through the air as speeds that no normal pokemon can see. As always, I use the snow and hail raining from the sky as cover. As I fly close to Ember, I spin and grab Venomitus, then use the momentum to spike him at the hulking salamence.

Ember's armor is preventing the hail from damaging him, but I know the weak spot that most pokemon have in common. Ember turns his head as soon as Venomitus impacts him, but that action is all I need. Before he has time to react, I shove an ice shard into his eye. Using his surprise to my advantage, I push the shard deeper and deeper.

With a roar of rage, he swiftly swipes the air with his front left claw toward me. I think about making a quip at how ueless that action was, until a white-hot blade cuts through the air towards me. It travels at such a speed that when I try to dodge it, it makes a clean cut through my hand and continues on its path.

The burning prevents my hand from bleeding, but I fold in pain as some sort of foreign energy eats away not only the cells on the surface, but the energy that's being supplied to me from Emerald. I don't have a clue what this is, but I know that if I get hit by it again, I might be erased from existence entirely without the possibility of regeneration.

Ignoring the ice shard in his eye, Ember tries to advance toward me in my injured state. Apparently, he hasn't noticed Venomitus yet. That works out perfectly when, just as he tries to move claw again, the little sableye forms a glowing green power gem and plunges it into Ember's other eye with the strengths of both of his claws.

"Gah!" he roars. "Emerald, you coward! Fight me yourself!"

He grabs Venomitus from the top of his head and holds him to the ground beneath his claws. Instead of attacking him, Ember turns his attention back to me. I'm barely able to move because, unlike other ghosts, I can feel pain. The sensation in my hand is too much for me to think about anything else.

That fact that I'm stationary means he can use a slower attack and still hit me. We both know that, which means that he's most likely going to burn me with sacred fire. Nevermeltice won't do me any good right now, but what will? If only I could remove his armor plating, then he would be impaled by the hailstones.

As Ember opens his maw, I immediately recognize the bright blue flames forming at the back of his throat. Even preparing the attack generates enough light for me to have to look away. This is clearly going to be more powerful than when he used it yesterday when I was trying to freeze Metal Claw.

As the attack reaches the peak of its charge, it heats up the air around Ember. The heat and pressure around him seem to signify my impending defeat, and possibly, my actual death. If he follows up with that cutting attack of his, its inevitable. My hand hasn't even started regenerating yet, which means that if I don't dodge it, I won't come back from it.

For a moment, Venomitus stops struggling against Ember's grip to look at me. I try my best to hide it, but I can tell he sees expression I make when I've given up. It happens so often now, that I might as well use it as my calling card. Seeing me this way seems to have made Venomitus lose his fighting spirit too.

 _You know what? I don't care anymore._

"Frost," Emerald says in my head. "Please don't… If you do this, winning won't be worth it."

Thoughts of hatred toward my enemy stir within me, but just as I'm about to ignore Emerald's warning, a broken double-helix of blue and yellow lightning strikes halfway between Ember and me. To my surprise, three pokemon stand where the lightning struck. Two of them left me on my own in Team Gamma's fortress, and one of them was near death last time I saw them.

"Oi," Aurate says, waving to me from Iode's back. "Miss me?"

"Not exactly," I say with a smirk. "But I'm glad you're here."

He nods and turns to Ember. Mr. Money stands alongside them, looking at the salamence with an uncharacteristically serious expression. He's still mostly calm, but every few seconds a spark of electricity will crack across his fur. He looks back at me for a moment and takes notice of my hand. He seems surprised at the wound.

"You used Spacial Rend against her?" he asks Ember.

The sacred fire dies down as Ember recognizes his team leader. For only a millisecond, I swear he looks conflicted, but it doesn't last long. With his claw that isn't holding Venomitus down, he prepares to cut through the air again.

"Move aside, Money," he says. "The heavens… Palkia marked Emerald and Venomitus for death. He wants Venomitus to watch her die. I can't get to Emerald until I get rid of her agent."

"Agent?" Mr. Money puzzles. "So you really are working for redemption, Frost. That makes me so wonderfully proud of you."

For a moment, I think tears might fall from his eyes from how much he's smiling. Maybe… just maybe I can call him a friend. As a pokemon who doesn't have anything to offer, it's highly unlikely that I could be his friend, but still…

"I understand your loyalty," he says, addressing Ember. "But this is why you must not impede her progress toward decency and moral. Her undeath is not yours to end."

"I'm not here to argue with you," Ember says. "You been a comrade for a long time, so you know my priority between your command and Palkia's. I won't tell you again, move aside."

"I cannot," Mr. Money says.

Ember swipes in a horizontal motion, sending a Spacial Rend through the air toward me. If he doesn't move, it will hit him, but if he does move, I won't be able to dodge in time. Iode tries to move the persian out of the way, but before he can, Mr. Money uses his hind legs to kick me into the ground. The next thing I see is the Spacial Rend flying over my head, missing me completely.

In a daze, I lift my head up from the ground. The first thing I see is the dumbfounded looks from Aurate, Iode, and Ember alike. I look around for Mr. Money, but he isn't anywhere in my line of sight. Was he able to dodge the attack after all? Maybe Iode was able to get him out of the way in time.

"He was… supposed to move," Ember barely manages to say. "He was fast enough. Why… didn't he move when he had the chance?"

I'm confused. Where is Mr. Money? Did he maybe dodge too far away? Maybe he's planning a sneak attack from somewhere. Normal-types usually know how to dig, even though Mr. Money knows mostly electric-type moves. Maybe he's underground. Or maybe even-

"Stop," I hear Emerald say. "Accept it, make peace with it, then move on. I can't bear to see you like this. The very fact that you are denying something means you know what happened."

"She's correct," Venomitus struggles to say beneath Ember's claw. "A terrible reality, but it is indeed the truth. Mr. Money has, to put it generously sugar coated, disappeared. He is gone from this world, never to return even as a ghost."

The little sableye's words help me realize something about myself. The reason I couldn't stand the sight of Rose's blood, but I could my own, was because I'm starting to care. For whatever reason, I feel the pain of others as if it were my own, and that's why I can't stand it when I see a living pokemon get hurt. Not once did I ever think about how I might react if a living pokemon died. I suppose I'm about to find out.

At first, I can't really think of how I feel. Other pokemon's emotions still course through me, but none of them are my own. Then, I'm reminded of the sensation of my internal organs being exposed to open air. I felt like something was missing, even though Xenon didn't remove any of my organs. I feel like that. Something is missing, but not anything I can see or touch.

I'm devoid of the right emotion, or even the knowledge of what I'm supposed to be feeling. It's like… I have none, but I'm supposed to. So now, to compensate, my mind is latching onto one. Emerald is trying to sever our connection, but it's too late. Hate is never aimless, it must be directed at something or someone. Luckily, that target deserves what's coming to them.

"Ember," I say, staring him dead in the eye. For the first time since I became an agent, the hate doesn't feel like it's from thousands of pokemon around the world. It feels like it is, and has always been mine.

"This is proof that bad karma is all there is. Mr. Money did nothing wrong, and got dealt a bad hand, but that's just life, I suppose," I say.

He looks over to me, not really understanding the situation.

"But just as he got dealt a bad hand," I say. "The worse hands get dealt to the worst pokemon, and in this game, I'm your dealer."


	18. Chapter 18: The Entertainer

**Special Episode: The Entertainer**

 **Cinder City**

Energy spikes? Agents of Spirits? It's all fun to watch. With a crystal ball in the grasp of her right claw, and a dream catcher in her left, Myro walks over to the edge of the room. It's hard to see through, but there's a stained glass window depicting Kyogre and Groudon overlooking most of the city.

She doesn't like it even a little. This city was founded by worshippers of groudon, even though the window depicts both legendaries. The aesthetics of the clashing red and blue glass aren't right. There's no beauty in it, only bias. It seems like it was designed to present red overtaking blue.

It's to be expected, but that doesn't mean she has to accept it. In fact, she's here to teach them that Kyogre is more powerful than the denizens of Archaea seem to think. Archaea's resident sea goddess is Tapu Fini, and they don't have room for another one. However, like any foreign entertainer, she will show them something they've never seen before.

"An empoleon in Cinder City? Strange, but you are a hunter, aren't you?"

Myro already knew he and his newfound protege were there before he said anything. She also knows they aren't here to be entertained. Buzzkills. They're probably here to stop her little show. It doesn't matter. She has a weapon, her main attraction that will bring about her finale.

"A hunter," she repeats. "Maybe so, but I'm called Myro the Entertainer. I may be a mercenary for hire, but I don't target pokemon."

"Then what can I hire you to do?" Aphot asks from the only spot in the room that light isn't touching.

"Well… I guess you _could_ hire me to kill someone," Myro says. "But my specialty is destroying cities."

The darkrai tightens his grip on his apprentice's hand. Felicia, her name is. Myro knows her from somewhere, but can't place where. More importantly, she notices from the way Felicia is holding Aphot's claw that she's using him for support. Can she not stand on her own? At the very least she should be able to levitate.

"I require your services for assassination. Anything you desire, I can dream up for you."

Myro shakes her head with a smirk that tells Aphot that she knows something he doesn't.

"What I want in return isn't something you can dream up," she explains. "My act is a scale of destruction that you have never seen before. What I want from you is your time. A grand act of such magnitude would go to waste if no one was around to see it. That is why my clients are always witnesses, my audience."

"Ah, then it will be so. Felicia and I will bare witness to their destruction."

Myro continues looking through the stained glass window. She strikes it with blinding speed, shattering half of it. Felicia looks on in amazement as the side depicting Kyogre is left perfectly intact. Through it, the city, the coast, and the fiery mountains and forests surrounding it make for striking scenery. The scene even seems to be framed by the windows edge. From Myro's perspective, the glass image of Kyogre and a deep blue sea matches up perfectly with the real life coast, a detail that only she seems to appreciate or notice.

"I'm here in Cinder City for a personal reason," Myro says. "They seem to have forgotten Kyogre's might and power, so from atop this very temple dedicated to Groudon, I will remind them of that. Care to join me?"

Without waiting for a response from them, Myro clutches her crystal ball in her metal claws, almost cracking it. After all these years, she can finally have her revenge on these good for nothing dung heaps.

 _Ready yourselves, Archaea, as Myro enters the stage!_

"Now, before I extinguish the city's flames, who was it that you want assassinated?"

"Her name is Branna," Aphot says. "But I wouldn't mind it if you hit one of her compatriots in the crossfire."


	19. Chapter 19: Over the Edge

**Tragic Sound (Venomitus)**

I'm not heartless, but Archaea is a continent filled with tragedy. When something such as this does happen, I'm not sorrowful, just disappointed. I think Frost understands more than anyone else that a life can be taken just as quickly as it was created. That's not what troubles me.

Mr. Money lived his best life, and will be immortalized in legend for his feets. He saved lives and provided hope for a continent, whose residents would rather devour each other alive than starve to death. It is as the saying goes; he died as he lived.

Indeed he did, but while he died saving another pokemon with no consideration for himself, it was his friend that took his life. Possessed by Deoxys or not, Ember cannot be allowed to live for that. Those that kill the ones they love, love only themselves. Self-absorbed imbeciles like that deserve a fate worse than anything in this universe can give them.

"So have you changed your mind about killing Ember then," Emerald asks telepathically.

"Indeed," I say. "I'm going to end Ember and Deoxys in any way I can."

"Afterwards… subdue Frost," she says. "She is losing control. You and the marshadow are ghosts, but that skarmory will die if he doesn't avoid her."

Iode… He was an enemy when we last met, but Mr. Money entered battle with him, so something must've changed. That doesn't mean I trust him, but it seems we have a common enemy, so I'll let it go for now. For now, he, Frost, the marshadow, and I will try to kill Ember.

I'm still being held under Ember's claw, but I can see Deoxys' fleshy red and blue mass of a body pulsing over the skin where his heart should be. I can't reach it, but I can hit it with a power gem if I can release my hand.

I feel a sudden weightlessness as Ember is thrown of me and into the shallow water where the beach meets the ocean. When he lands, I see several giant black spikes that resemble thorns embedded in his side. They burn with a hostile black energy that eats away at Ember's metal hide, even as I watch.

For the short time I've known her, Frost's resting facial expression has been a faintly unhappy one. Whatever she's feeling is a far cry from that. She hovers menacingly above Ember, her disintegrated hand positioned to obliterate him if he moves. Black dust flows around her in an aura of hatred, but it's not Dark Matter's hatred, it's hers.

I can't begin to imagine what any living creature could do to make someone hate them that much. He killed Mr. Money, yes, but to my knowledge they only knew each other a day. Besides, this is Archaea. Pokemon die all the time. Even I don't hate Ember, but even though an executioner doesn't hold anything against the judged, he still must execute.

Still on his side, Ember looks up at Frost. He's still in shock about Mr. Money's death, and doesn't seem to know what's going on. The longer Frost stares down at him, the more her rage builds. With a flick of her hand, the black dust collects into a thorn bigger than three of Ember put together.

"Die, trash," she says as she pushes the black thorn toward him. In an instant, the thorn and Frost's aura dissipate as she's pulled by the throat and waist to the ground, then dragged through the mud and water by vines. She struggles against a serperior's massive weight as it coils around Frost's body.

She's just as surprised to see Branna as the rest of us are. The grass snake is clearly exhausted and dehydrated, but ignores that as she faces Frost with a stern expression. As soon as Frost recognizes her friend, she stops struggling. She looks up at Branna with watery eyes. As much as I know that she would like to say it's just the water and mud, I know that she's on the verge of crying.

"He's dead… Ember killed him."

"I know," Branna says solemnly. "But does a life for a life seem fair to you?"

"Yes…" she says, seemingly not confident in her own answer.

"Look at 'em. He's a mess, because he killed his friend. Killing someone takes the light from your soul and replaces it with nothing. You will only have regrets, and Frost, you don't need any more of those."

"Incorrect," I say, not wanting to listen to any more optimistic nonsense. "Sometimes, taking a life is necessary, and Ember deserves to die."

"And I suppose you, with all your cosmic power get to decide that, huh?" she mocks. "If you think someone deserves to die based on your own opinion, you're no better than the legendaries. The only thing us mortals can do is not be like them."

"Mortals," I say. "Are very different then immortals, but the path I've chosen is very different from either of them. I'm searching for the ones who can admit that death is the only punishment for imbeciles and egoists."

"So you don't want friends, just people who think like you?" Branna asks.

"That's not…"

For some reason, this feels the same as talking to Sepullen. Every word she says cuts through me like Ember's Spacial Rend. Branna has walked off all paths made for her. She defies the legendaries by remaining optimistic in this dreary, desolate world, and she defies this world's inhabitants by not letting them bring her down to their level.

Yet again, I feel like another pokemon is better than me. She's living how I want to, but it's almost as if I haven't quite made my own path. Without even saying it, I feel like she's trying to remind me of who's shadow I live in. Every thought and action I have is compared to the one I simultaneously love and hate.

The Relic Master, despite our contrasting natures, are the same. I've realized, just at this moment, that he's rubbed off on me more than I would like to admit. Those that know me, know that I've always liked free thinkers, and that their ideals can be different without clashing. I can't go on with this extreme view of the world, but I need guidance until I can make my own path.

"You said friends," I say. "But the truth is… friends slip through my claws easier then the sand. If Sepullen is the best I can do, then I can't really make friends."

"That's… That's not true," Frost says. "I only wanted you to fight by my side because I wanted a friend."

That… can't be true, can it? I haven't had real friends for as long as I can remember. Besides Sepullen, I remember the brief period where I was travelling with Lyle, but he died before I really came to know him. Come to think of it, I don't remember how to have a proper friend. With Sepullen being so critical of me all these years, I don't really know how to be around a pokemon that doesn't have unreachable expectations.

Emerald is different. Romantic love is different than friendship. I know that I can look to Emerald for anything and not be judged, but I don't know if I could possibly feel that way about anyone else.

"Venomitus!"

His painful psychic voice is so familiar to me that at first I mistake it for my own thought. I turn to see Sepullen and a milotic near the water. Sepullen's vessel is cracked in numerous places, but the cracks look like they've been patched with mud and dirt. His eyes only glow faintly. The Psychic Piece in my treasure bag must be the only thing powering him right now.

"You heard us just now," I say to him.

"Correct," he says. "But in it's nonsense, superstition would say that fate brought us to the same conclusion today. I move toward a new path to perfection, and you are on a path to something unknown. I desire to know what that is, but I will no longer be the one to guide you."

This is very uncharacteristic of Sepullen. For as long as I've known him, he has judged my every action, thought, and ideal. For him to relinquish control of anything is…

"I will only be an observer in your life, nothing more. Despite your life long wish, I still find myself unable to be your friend, but only because I cannot remember how to be. For now, Miss Branna has a certain wisdom in her words. I would listen to them."

"Touching," Iode says, appearing between us in a blue spark of light. "But while all of you were having your little heart-to-heart, I've taken care of a little something."

Beneath his claws is a squirming red and blue spider-like creature. It's four limbs writhe and tear away at Iode, but futilely. I look back at Ember, who has returned to his original form and is sleeping soundly. Despite being hellbent on killing him earlier, I can't help but feel remorse. Even in his sleep, tears run down his face and into the water. I've heard that dragon tears can be used for a variety of magical rituals and potions, but I'm not going to collect his. I'm not heartless.

"Iode…" Sepullen starts. "Ever fearless and bold. Do you understand what that thing beneath you is?"

The skarmory ruffles his feathers impatiently.

"Do I need to? Xenon had a lot of parasites laying around. I didn't have the time or the want to keep track of them."

"Then why aren't you killing it?" Sepullen asks. "If all you understand is that it possessed Ember, why prolong its useless existence when you could so easily crush it?"

"Xenon and I have researched all of you," Iode says. "Especially you, Relic Master Sepullen. I know that you research relics, but also magical and scientific machines. Seeing as our base is destroyed and I'm the only member of Team Gamma that's still alive, I'm looking for work."

"So this parasite is an offering to ingratiate yourself with me?"

"Yes," Iode says. "I always look to serve, not lead. Though, I only serve the few pokemon that deserve my respect."

Sepullen turns to the rest of us. Branna is still coiled around Frost, but the froslass seems to have embraced it for what it is. I suppose that coiling another pokemon for a snake is like giving them a hug, and I can't help but feel jealous of Frost for that. Not really, but I wouldn't mind it if Emerald came down from the sky now that the battle is over.

"To all pokemon remaining!" Sepullen calls out with overwhelming psychic energy. "Come with me to Fort Ruin if you wish to participate in my exploration guild. To you Iode, welcome to Team Ruin."

He turns to Branna and says, "You travelled to this continent to look for your missing child and his team. You already know that they went missing while exploring with my team, so I will do everything in my power to help you in your search."

"You'd better, Relic Master Sepullen," she says. "Team Ruin and your guild mean nothing to me, I'm just here to get them and go home."

Sepullen looks at her, but doesn't say anything back. Instead he looks up at Emerald, who's still meditating high above what remains of Isla Delirium. The claydol's eyes are still glowing, but he isn't using any magic or communicating. I wonder if he's talking to Emerald.

"Yes," Emerald says. "I can do that."

She opens her eyes, which glow a deep shade of purple and black. In an instant the water, the craigs, and everything else is gone. We've been teleported halfway across the continent by the most powerful pokemon in Archaea. With so many new faces, the next months will be interesting.

 **Southern Twisted Craigs**

When Ember first transformed, the energy released deatomized everything within its vicinity, and yet Koncordia finds herself regenerating like a ghost would. Piece by piece, her body comes back together in a cloud of black dust and smoke.

"Oh hell," she says. "Rose is dead, why can't I be? If only I could get back at Sepullen. He dragged us into that mess in the first place."

With her curse preventing her from dying, she sits unmoving in the craigs for days. She trains herself to resist her hunger by focusing on something else; her festering hatred for Sepullen. The longer she sits, the longer it builds. In her mind, Rose wouldn't have died if Sepullen hadn't let her get taken.

A few weeks later, after having withstood the blistering sun and the watchful eyes of the desert skarmory, she finally blinks. In front of her is a parasect that's not much smaller than she is. It looks up at her with curious white eyes.

"What is that thing that you are doing?" it asks.

"Planning my bloody revenge."

"Hmm, well. Perhaps we could help you with that thing, that revenge."

"How?"

"Oh, we should show this thing to her, Barium. For she does not have the living sickness. Look deep, and look well. There are these wondrous things, the secrets of the heavens, and now, they are yours."

 **End of Arc 1**


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